


The Road Goes On and On

by Maewn



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Canon, Spoilers for main questline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-03-10 12:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 29,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3290504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maewn/pseuds/Maewn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The World-Eater is slain. What remains now for the Dragonborn? Glimpses into Aldariel Stormborn's life after the defeat of Alduin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death of the Dragon God I

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Skyrim or the Elder Scrolls series, Bethesda does. I’m just playing in their sandbox. Enjoy and leave a review! Be warned, there are spoilers ahead!

The winds whistled past me, the voices of the mourning dragons carrying through the air. I sighed, forcing my tired body to move faster. I needed to get down to High Hrothgar at the very least before passing out. Dying of cold was just insulting. 

I had been to the afterlife and back. I was exhausted. Sovngarde’s star studded sky lingered in my memory. I knew I would never be able to return; I was not a Nord. That heaven was not mine.

The Void was my destiny. I trudged on, wondering at the irony of one of the children of Sithis being Dragon-born. The Dread Father must have a sense of humor, indeed. 

The stone gate of High Hrothgar rose into view and I rasped “Wuld Nah Kest!”

The air blurred and I found myself standing in the courtyard where three of the Greybeards stood, Arngeir being one of them. He stared at me, eyes wide. “Dovahviin?”

“It is done,” I said softly, finally, finally letting my body sink to the ground. The last thing I heard was the rumble of a Shout.  
****  
I awoke to sunlight. Arngeir sat at my side, dark eyes flickering over the pages of a book. “Ah, you’re awake, Dovahkiin,” he said, glancing up.

I suppressed a yawn with difficulty. I realized that my armor was missing and found it sitting on a nearby chair. I rolled my shoulders, wondering at how light I felt. It had been a while since I had had the luxury of not wearing armor. I toyed absent-mindedly with the hem of my tunic. “What day is it?

“The 23rd of Hearthfire,” he replied, shutting his book and laying it on the side table. I thought that over for a moment. It had been the 15th when I had asked Odahviing to carry me to Skuldafn. And it had taken me little over two days to traverse the whole of the temple…time apparently passed differently in the realm of Sovngarde.

Arngeir had been silent while I mused, but he spoke then, a tone of urgency in his voice. “Is it done then, Dovahkiin? Is the World-Eater defeated?”

I stared at him for a long time, wondering where to start and then at last, I talked. He was not one to interrupt, letting the story spill out like a dam recently broken.

I told him of the winds shrieking past my ears as I perched on Odahviing’s back, the red of his scales in the midmorning sun, how I had seen nearly the whole of Taazokaan from the top of mountains no man or mer had ever reached.

I described Skuldafn, the dragons that had met me at the temple gates, the skeletons that had sprung to life by ancient magics long forgotten. I spoke of the dimly lit passages inside the temple to the dragons, the smell of decay and dust that hung heavy in the air. I told of the Dragon wall I had found, the words easily transcribed within my memory. Strun. Storm. A Word to bring forth a storm to ravage one’s enemies.

I told him of the Dragon Priest who I had battled at the peak of the Temple. I recalled the gleam of the undead creature’s eyes as we fought and how he had crumbled to ashes. I spoke of the portal swirling to life and the leap into oblivion.

He smiled as I described the glowing skies and the aurora flickering overhead. The memory of the fog, clinging to my skin and the screams of lost souls as Alduin devoured them made me shiver involuntarily.

I took a moment to gather myself before plunging into the rest of the story. I detailed the meeting of the three warriors who had fought Alduin before and the final battle, how the World-Eater had become like fire and vanished, screaming before our eyes. How I had not absorbed his soul.

Arngeir nodded his grey head, dark eyes serious. “So perhaps the World-eater will return.”

“I think he was pretty dead,” I replied, leaning against the wall. The old Nord shrugged his shoulders.

“Only Akatosh knows for sure, Dovahkiin,” he said softly, resting one hand about an inch from my own. He knew how I didn’t like to be touched.

I heaved a sigh, my right hand shading my eyes, “Perhaps,” I said, suddenly too tired to argue religion with him.

Arngeir rose; I could hear the scrape of his chair. “I will leave you to rest then. You have our deepest thanks.”

“Thank you, Sadon vum Arngeir,” I said softly, using the draconic word for Greybeard. I had refused to call any of them Master. That title was reserved for one person and one person alone. Not the old men who followed the Way of the Voice.

Arngeir murmured another thanks and left.

I lay back, recalling the sunlit skies of Solitude, the sound of my wife’s voice, the warmth of my daughter in my arms as I spun her in a circle…I would be home soon enough…

I closed my eyes, the sound of draconic mourning still rumbling down the slopes of the Throat of the World. I didn’t dream.


	2. Death of the Dragon God II

Solitude was a welcome sight, the tall parapets of Castle Dour rising above the city, a symbol of the military might of the Imperial Legion. The mid-afternoon sun shone overhead, the faint rays barely warming the air. I urged Shadowmere into a trot, down to the stable, where I dismounted swiftly before paying for her keep.

The groom eyed Shadowmere with trepidation. “Be nice,” I told her, patting her head. She nosed my shoulder in return, giving me a look that clearly said ‘I do what I want.’ I sighed, resigning myself that I might be hearing from the stables at some point in the future.

“Don’t kill anybody,” I murmured in her ear. She huffed, nudging me again. I kissed her forehead and left.

I had changed into my mage robes before leaving High Hrothgar, they were much lighter than my armor. And I felt so much more free now that Alduin was gone, the destruction of Nirn no longer hanging over my head and the task of saving the world gone from my shoulders.

I could be the thane of Solitude among other duties but Dovahkiin no more. I had done my duty; the Blades could handle the dragon threats. I had seen that they had had many new recruits the last time I had visited, attempting (unsuccessfully) to get information on calling one of Alduin’s lieutenants.

I wondered briefly how successful Paarthurnax would be with keeping the remains of Alduin’s forces in check. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind, making my way up the path. Only time would tell for sure.

“Thane Stormborn,” one of the guards greeted me at the doors to the city.

“Any trouble while I was away?” I asked as the doors slowly opened.

“None, sir.”

I nodded, “Good.”

“Good day to you, thane,” he said, stepping respectfully aside.

I tilted my head in acquiescence, walking quickly inside. The city was its usual bustling self and I wove my way through the crowds with practiced ease. My home was near the Blue Palace, near the back of the city.

A flash of red out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I stopped. “PAPA!” A loud shriek made me wince.

My nine year old daughter hurtled down the road, nearly toppling me over as she hugged me. “You’re okay right? No injuries?” She peered at me, her red-gold eyes examining.

“I’m fine, Neria, really,” I assured her. I looked up, finding my wife walking sedately towards me, her red hair curling around her shoulders like tongues of flame.

“Aldariel,” she greeted, her golden eyes warm. Neria relinquished her hold as her mother took her place. “I missed you,” my wife said, a sigh escaping her.

“And I you,” I murmured.

“Is it over now?” she asked quietly, low enough that only I could hear.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “It is.”

“Excellent,” she said, kissing me.

“You have no idea how glad I am that the situation has been dealt with,” I told her as we began to walk towards the house.

“I am just happy that you are home,” my wife said, smiling. “And safe.”

I heaved a sigh, “Yes, no injuries to report save for temporary exhaustion.”

“Oh?”

“Battling…him…was not easy,” I said, yawning.

“You still seem exhausted,” my wife noted.

“I’ll be fine,” I told her.

She nodded, threading her fingers through mine. “We’ll be fine,” she corrected me.

I laughed, “Yes, we will.” We walked further in silence for a time, nearing Proudspire Manor, where we had lived for nine years now. Jordis, my housecarl leaned against the stone wall, moving away when she saw us.

“My thane,” she murmured, bowing. “I am glad to see you are well.”

“Jordis,” I acknowledged. “How have things been?”

“Quiet, although Thane Bryling has taken advantage of your absence to promote her…ideology.” Jordis shivered minutely. “I don’t know how anyone stands that woman…”

I smiled, “Only Auri-el knows, Jordis. Has the High Queen been well?” I switched topics, unwilling to talk about Bryling anymore than I had to.

“Yes,” Jordis reported, brushing back a strand of blonde hair that had fallen free from her braid. “Her Highness has been less stressed as of late, what with the war ending.”

I nodded. “Less bloodshed does tend to make people happy.” Unless you were someone who craved bloodshed as I did on occasion…

“Papa?” Neria tugged at my sleeve.

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Could we spar? I’ve been practicing while you were gone and Jordis says I’m getting better,” my daughter pleaded.

“Well…,” I glanced over at my spouse who shrugged.

“She has been practicing a great deal,” she said as Jordis nodded agreement, “I think you will be pleased with her level of progress.”

“Alright,” I said, pushing her towards the house. “Go on, grab the practice swords and meet me in the courtyard in ten minutes.”

“Yay!” She raced off.

Jordis smiled, “She’s a good kid, if I may say so, thane.”

“Yes,” I said, grinning. “She is.”

The day seemed so much brighter; I was home, my family was safe. Alduin was gone…

Neria reappeared then, clutching the practice swords.

“Papa, come on!” she whined, bouncing up and down.

“Coming,” I called, pulling my wife after me. I caught the practice sword that Neria hurled at me with ease.

“Think fast!” she yelled. I laughed. She was so much like me sometimes it was scary.

“I could say the same to you,” I told her, parrying her blow. She jumped backwards, avoiding me.

“I’m gonna beat you!” she said, dodging and striking once more. I stepped back, she had gotten faster…I grinned, this was going to be fun.

Twenty minutes later, I finally managed to disarm Neria. “Arggh!” she groaned, “I almost got you!!”

“You’ll beat me some day,” I said, ruffling her hair.

“Really?!” her eyes were hopeful.

“Yes,” I assured her.

“Yay! I’m gonna train and train and one day I’m going to beat you!!” she cheered.

I stifled another laugh. It would be a while before she would beat me, but it wouldn’t do to crush her hopes now.

“You will,” I said, collecting the practice swords. “Come on, we should change before dinner.”

“Aye-aye!” she chirped, running into the house. My wife smiled, rising and following Neria. I did the same, closing the door behind us. One chapter of my life had ended and another began. The Dovahkiin was not needed anymore, but Thane Stormborn was. Hopefully, that role would not be too hazardous to my health…


	3. As the sun rises I

I surveyed the marketplace from my spot atop the bridge. I could see Neria perusing one of the stalls selling fruit, Nandil cradled in her arms. My first son was one year old; his brother, Daris, was barely eight months now. I had left him with his mother at her market stall.

The city seemed very much the same way it had been years before when I had first come to the city and joined Elisif's court. The merchants were a little greyer now and faces more weathered, but they still sold their wares with the same enthusiasm and drive. I flicked my gaze to the sky, but no dragons appeared to darken the day.

It had been six years since Alduin's defeat, and the Dragonborn had faded into legend once more. I was just glad that I had had the foresight to always hide my race and disguise my voice whenever dealing with anyone wanting to see the Dragonborn.

For all that the rest of Tamriel knew, the Dragonborn was a tall Nordic male in dragon-scale armor. I was thankful for that. I already had enough to deal with as a member of High Queen Elisif's court.

As a thane of Haafingar, my words held power in the court. Elisif often listened to my advice more than that of Bryling's; something that still annoyed the other thane. I chose to ignore most of the abuse that she hurled at me. I had, however, made it quite clear to consequences of pushing me too far.

She had only tested me once. Insulting both my bloodline and that of my wife's had led to the next six months being a very unpleasant experience for her. I could have killed her, but her disappearance would have drawn attention back to me and I didn't want that. Suffice it to say, she hadn't tried the insult again.

I smiled and walked down to the courtyard.

Neria glanced up, bouncing Nandil in her arms. She was fifteen, old enough that boys had begun to follow her around. I was immensely glad that my wife had convinced me to train my daughter in hand-to-hand combat; she would be able to handle most things that life threw at her.

"Papa!" she grinned, her red-gold eyes glowing in the sunlight.

"Find anything good?" I asked, gesturing towards one of the stalls.

"Some," she shrugged, adjusting her brother in her arms. Nandil blinked, watching me with wide golden eyes.

"Gah?" the toddler questioned. I smiled again, almost in reflex. Nandil had inherited my hair color and skin, but his eyes were his mother's.

Neria leaned towards me and carefully handed him over. I stepped back, cradling my son close. Nandil's fingers bunched my shirt.

"He wasn't much trouble was he?" I asked.

"No," Neria said, shaking her head, causing her blonde braid to flop about. I ruffled Nandil's hair gently. The child squawked indignantly, a hand curling tightly around my finger.

"That's good," I murmured, managing to free my finger from my son's grasp.

"He's been relatively tolerant of all the attention," Neria said, approvingly.

"Oh?"

Neria snickered, "He didn't like Bryling, he started wailing the minute she got close."

I muffled a chuckle. "It seems that the dislike is genetic." A soft snore was Nandil's only reply, he had fallen asleep. "All tired out from the attention, I guess," I mused.

Neria smiled at the sight, "Indeed."

I glanced over to the side, spying General Tullius near the edge of the market by my wife's stall. She seemed to be getting along amicably with him. I wasn't surprised, they shared similar views on many things.

"I didn't know Mama knew the general," Neria said.

"They met when we first moved here," I said, "but the general is rarely outside the castle or the court if he can help it." I moved towards the stall as I spoke. Neria followed.

"Thane Stormborn," Tullius greeted me, his blue-grey eyes tired, "Good to see you."

"General," I said softly, inclining my head. My wife smiled, rocking Daris's cradle with one hand.

I stepped around the stall front, adjusting my son in my arms as I did so. My wife kissed my jaw briefly, taking Nandil carefully from me. He grumbled in his sleep but didn't wake up.

"How old is he now?" Tullius asked quietly, observing the exchange.

"One year old," I answered. Tullius nodded.

"If I could have a moment of your time, Thane," he requested.

I exchanged glances with my wife, she made a shooing motion with a hand. "I'll be fine, Aldariel. I can handle the stall and our children for a while."

Neria looked up from where she was rocking Daris's cradle, "I'll help," she offered.

"Alright," I said, turning to Tullius, "Lead the way."

We rather predictably headed up to Castle Dour. Tullius was silent until we reached the war room where maps of the continent were still spread out over the tables.

"We've heard rumors of a Stormcloak camp near the border of Haafingar," he said, tapping the border marked on one of the maps.

"And you want me to investigate?" I asked. I did so long for some bloodshed after nearly six years of peace…

Tullius caught the emphasis and frowned, "Investigate and nothing more. We'd rather not have another war on our hands."

I sighed, taking a seat in a nearby chair. I leaned forwards, "So if there is a proven hostile force on our borders, you would rather have them sit there and continue gathering strength?"

Tullius grumbled something that sounded like a curse under his breath, rubbing his temples with a peeved expression.

"Negotiate with them, see if they won't return to their families and lay down their weapons. Their leader is long dead, they need not hold allegiance to him any longer."

"If they are still clinging to Ulfric King-killer after six years, then they will not surrender," I retorted. "They are a threat even if they are only a few hundred or less. A small group of people can bring down an empire, remember?"

Tullius's gaze darkened, no doubt remembering the news of the Emperor's death at the hand of the Dark Brotherhood years earlier. Of course, he didn't know it had been me to send Titus Mede II to the Void…

He sighed heavily, sinking into a chair with all the weariness of an aged man. He covered his face with a hand, hiding his reaction. I watched him, already knowing he would agree with my statement and thus with my decision. They had to be killed, every last one of them.

It was a long time before he lifted his head and even then, he didn't look at me.

"Then go. Do what you must."

I rose, offering a slight bow, "Of course." I suppressed a smirk. The Stormcloak rebels wouldn't know what hit them.


	4. As the sun rises II

The border was a two day journey from the city by foot, only a day's by horse if one had a swift steed. And Shadowmere was almost as fast as a hawk on the wind. We reached the border in half the time. I had left almost as soon as I had told my wife and daughter that I had an assignment that would keep me away for a few days at the most.

I crept through the trees, keeping low. I had left Shadowmere back about a mile, she could handle any beast or bandit that dared to attack her. I wanted to get close to the camp without any distractions.

I murmured a soft prayer to the Dread Father, casting illusion spells as I went. I wanted this to go easy. A barrier rose around the clearing, far back enough that it wouldn't be noticed for a while, but not too far that they could escape. The dying light of the sun illuminated the clearing, glancing off of mail and steel. I frowned, knocking an arrow to my bow.

I leapt upwards, settling onto the boughs of a large tree. I swore softly under my breath; this was no small force. And it seemed they had battle-mages. This would be tricky.

I retreated slightly, far enough back that the sound of summoning couldn't be heard. I summoned two dremora Lords who stared at me with red baleful eyes. "There's a group of rebels in the clearing beyond," I said, gesturing to the area in question. "Kill them all."

"As you command," one of the Lords growled and stalked soundlessly through the trees. The other followed silently. I raised my bow again, taking to the trees. I would have to be careful, the vast numbers would be a pain to handle even with the two dremora…

I almost laughed at the sudden idea that had sprung to life in my mind. For the first time in over six years, I called a dragon to my aid.

"ODAHVIING!" The words shattered the stillness and a dragon's roar rumbled through the air. I cast another flurry of spells, and headed to the edge of the clearing. Screams and war cries greeted me. The dremora were making short work of the rebels.

I knocked an arrow once more, pulling the bowstring back to my lips and released. The nearest Stormcloak dropped, their spine broken by the impact. I knocked another arrow and released it. One more fell.

Odahviing's fire scorched the earth, sending men and women running. I smirked, killing them as they fled. I lost track of how many died, both by dragonfire and my own hand. Their numbers were certainly dwindling though. I aimed carefully and took down another battle-mage. They fell with a sharp cry.

I reached for another arrow…and found nothing. I chuckled; I had used all of the arrows I had brought. "Well then," I purred, slinging my bow over my shoulder and unsheathing my sword, "time to get to work."

I darted into the clearing, moving from rebel to rebel. A slash of the throat there, a stab there, a fireball in that direction. I nearly laughed at the look of horror and hatred aimed at me. Odahviing landed beside me, the ground shuddering, his wings slamming down to shield me from a barrage of arrows.

"My thanks, Odahviing!" I called. His low rumbling laugh caught my ears.

"Puny humans are nothing to me," he growled. "Their arrows tickle but have no bite."

I snickered, casting a barrier as he took to the sky again, setting more enemies alight. Lightning flared at my fingertips, the words of storm-calling heavy on my tongue.

"Strun Bah Qo!" Clouds swirled above, thunder rumbling through the now darkening sky, heralding the end of the rebels' time on Nirn. And in the glow of the lightning, I became that bringer of death.

I laughed, losing myself in the joy of death and blood and the sound of the screams of my enemies. I had almost forgotten the feel of a blade slicing through flesh, but it was familiar to me as my magic was.

Odahviing's roars echoed above me as the last of the rebels fell to a blast of lightning. The dragon landed, his claws crushing a corpse beneath him, coating his talons with gore. His red scales were scored with marks where arrows had glanced off, unable to pierce his hide.

"That was a good fight, Dovahkiin," he rumbled. "Broke the monotony nicely." I grinned.

"I'm glad that I could help with your boredom, my friend," I said.

Odahviing gave the draconic equivalent of a laugh, a deep rumble that sounded like boulders colliding. "Tell me Dovahkiin, will there be another battle like this?"

"Another?" I asked, cleaning my blade and sliding it into the sheath again. My eyes caught his dark ones.

He nodded his great head. I shrugged, "Possibly, the rebels may not yet submit to the new High Queen. There will always be another battle to fight, another enemy to be crushed beneath our heel."

Odahviing laughed again. "You sound like a dragon, fierce and ambitious and battle-hungry."

I smiled, "I hold the soul of a dragon," I reminded him. His teeth bared in a grin, blood still staining the sharp white fangs.

"So you do, Dovahkiin," he rumbled. "And that soul shines brighter than any star. A mortal in form you may be, but in soul you are indeed dovahsos, dragon-blood."

I cast one long look around the clearing, murmuring a spell to detect life. Nothing else save for Odahviing and myself registered in my sight. We stood in a field of death. I dissipated the barrier I had raised earlier, now that nothing was there to escape. I turned back to the dragon who had once been Alduin's right wing, his lieutenant.

"I will bid you farewell then, zeymah," I said, using the dovah word for brother. Odahviing made a noise like an embarrassed cough. He didn't deal with compliments very well.

"Of course, dovahkiin," he replied after a moment, "I look forward to the next battle." He pushed off the ground, wind gusting in my face as he took flight. He circled once and flew off towards the Throat of the World.

I glanced around the battlefield again, my sight fully adjusted to the darkness now. I whistled, the sound shrill and loud. An answering whinny came from beyond the treeline. Shadowmere trotted over the corpses to stand beside me, neighing loudly.

She butted her head against my chest, annoyed. "I know you're irritated," I told her as she head-butted me again. She glared at me.

"Next time, I'll let you help out, but there was a potential that you would have been overwhelmed by rebels," I said trying to placate her.

She nudged my shoulder, but the movement was softer, less irritated. She huffed. I pulled an apple from my saddlebags and Shadowmere snatched it from me. I chuckled, refilling my quiver from the bundle of arrows I had left there. I swung up into the saddle when I was finished.

"Let's go home, shall we?" She snorted, dashing into the shadowed woods. We were halfway through the woods when I heard it, the sound of paws thudding against earth. I swore softly, knocking an arrow to my bow.

Wolves if we were lucky, werewolves if we weren't. I half-turned and caught the gleam of yellow eyes and a keen intelligence behind us. Hulking forms whose fur shone in the moonlight that was filtering through the forest.

Definitely werewolves. I replaced my arrow and reslung my bow over my shoulder. Fire would keep them away. I hissed the ancient words of power and felt the magic rush out a circle of burning, devouring flames.

Yips and howls of pain greeted the action and I cast the spell again. They retreated slightly, but I could still hear them following as Shadowmere raced over the ground. "Hurry, back to Solitude," I murmured to the mare.

She increased her pace. As a creature born from the Void, shaped by Sithis Himself, she had the speed of the wind in a storm when needed, none of the physical limitations of a normal horse though she liked to pretend she was. The air whipped by but she never faltered, finding the road with a supernatural ease. Yellow eyes gleamed suddenly beside us.

Black claws arched towards me.


	5. As the sun rises III

The impact of the werewolf knocked me from Shadowmere, crashing to the ground. I automatically called fire to my aid, sending the beast running, yipping as its fur burned. My chest hurt and I swore.

I had most likely broken a rib or two in the fall. I was lucky not to be dead, I was thanking my armor and magic for that. I had a tendency to reach for my magic more often than not and had used to cushion my falls in childhood. Now, I utilized that skill once more.

"Strun Bah Qo!" I shouted, summoning a storm. Shadowmere darted by, and I swung back into the saddle with difficulty. I gasped in pain, I had definitely broken something. I hissed the incantation to summon a dremora Lord.

"Kill the wolves of Hircine," I snarled, kneeing Shadowmere into a gallop. The werewolves didn't follow me, choosing instead to take their chances with the dremora. I cast a healing spell, only to feel my skin burn even more.

I swore again, cutting the spell off. The werewolf's claws must have had some kind of poison on them. "Shadowmere, get to Solitude, hurry," I murmured. Her pace increased to the point where the landscape became an indistinguishable blur.

It was getting harder to keep my eyes open. My chest felt as if it were on fire. I could just barely hear Shadowmere's frantic whinny. Suddenly guards with red armor hovered beside us. "—ay with us! Thane—!"

Another voice, female and familiar, an agonized shriek of dismay, "ALDARIEL!"

I fell into darkness.

The Sanctuary is burning around me, the flames licking at my skin, the taste of blood heavy in the air. The sound of swords rings somewhere and I try to move towards them. A wolf howls nearby and I am no longer in the Sanctuary, the grass cool beneath my feet. I run, no weapon in my hands but my magic crackles at my fingertips. A wolf, no it's too big to be a wolf. A werewolf, a hound of Hircine, runs towards me. Its yellow eyes glow in the light of the full moon. I launch a barrage of lightning at it and it screams, fur turning to flame and it crumples to the ground.

A man appears from the trees, dark eyes, a familiar smile crossing his lips. "Killing more wolves? You're dreaming again, my dear apprentice." He looks exactly the same as when I had last seen him, short dark hair pushed back behind his ears, slight circles under his eyes.

"I'm not your apprentice anymore, master," I retort, my tone fond rather than biting.

He smiles, "Yes, but who will scold you for getting hurt again?"

I roll my eyes. "Two hundred years and you still scold me?"

"Of course," he smiles again, "You're part of the Family." He walks closer, gait smooth and graceful. "You should wake up soon. It is not wise to linger in the realm of spirits and dead too long. Besides, your wife and daughter will be worried."

"Why would they be worried?" A sharp burning crept across my chest then, and I scream. The forest, my teacher all vanish as the pain grows. The border, the werewolf leaping at me, the feel of claws ripping through my skin. I remember this as the pain overwhelms my mind and I tumble into blinding, brilliant light…

"—he's awake!" A voice at my side, warm and familiar. "Aldariel, can you hear me?"

I gasped, struggling to see anything. The room was a blur. "Easy, love," my wife's voice soothed. A hand, her's, curled around one of mine.

I tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Finally I manage to ask, "What happened?"

"Shadowmere brought you back to the city, you were…in bad shape," she said, her voice soft and a tremor of fear echoing in the sound.

I blinked, the room slowly becoming less of a blur, my wife's golden eyes the first thing to snap into focus. She was not alone. Neria peered around the doorframe, her red-gold eyes wide and frightened.

"What do you remember?" my wife asked, clutching my hand, the metal of her wedding band cool against my skin.

I thought back, "I was on my way back after completing my mission. I was followed, I thought they were just wolves at first but they weren't. Bloody werewolves…"

"Werewolves?" Neria squeaked from her position.

"One caught up with Shadowmere," I coughed, pain lancing through my chest. "…I didn't think werewolves could move that fast. It got me in the chest, pushed me off Shadowmere. I managed to drive it away. I tried to use a healing spell but the wound…burned."

"It took some time to figure out what poison was used," my wife said quietly, her grip on my hand tightening. "We almost lost you," her voice dropped to a whisper.

"I'm still here aren't I?" I murmured, switching to my native tongue. She smiled, tears dripping down her dark face.

"True," she said, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

Neria finally entered the room, her face as grey as I had ever seen it. She sat down on the bed and even from where I lay, I could feel her trembling.

"Are you going to be okay?" her voice was soft, almost a whisper. I glanced over at my wife, who nodded.

"You'll be fine as long as you rest up and avoid getting hit by another werewolf," she said, wiping her tears away. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my temple.

Neria sniffled, breaking into sobs, wrapping her arms around my waist, clinging to me. "Neria, darling, I'm not dead," I told her, suppressing another cough.

She looked up at me, eyes red and puffy. "B-but you…you almost died!"

"But I didn't," I said gently, trying to calm her.

"Please don't die, Papa!" she cried, bursting into tears. It was some time before she calmed and fell asleep, exhausted.

"She thought you dead when they carried you in," my wife said, stroking Neria's head. "It…was shocking to her."

"I have no doubt," I replied. Neria had never seen me terribly wounded before. I flicked my eyes to my wife again. "Before I passed out, I heard you call my name. Was that real?"

She nodded, "I had been talking with Sayma at the inn and had just left when Shadowmere came bolting through the gates like a bat out of Coldharbor. You were slumped in the saddle and when you fell…," her voice caught but she continued, "One of the guards caught you. You looked so pale, I mistook you for a corpse," her voice was shaking.

"I should have summoned a few more dremora before I left," I said, thinking back, going over every detail in my mind. "The next time I run into a werewolf, I will kill it before it can kill me."

"Please be careful," my wife said, gripping my hand tightly, "I do not wish to experience losing you again. I do not want to raise our children without their father."

I nodded, "I will be careful." She kissed me then, a fervent deep kiss.

"I love you," she whispered.

"And I love you," I said, my voice just as soft. She lay down next to me, her red hair almost black in the dim lantern light.

I silently promised myself that I wouldn't let my wife's fears come to pass. I refused to let that happen.


	6. Dragon's fire and Dragon's blood I

The day the dragon landed on Castle Dour was a Morndas, the third of Sun's Dawn to be precise, three years after my run in with a werewolf and a mere year after the defeat of the Vampire Lord Harkon. I had been in court, as usual, when the roar of the beast echoed through the air, audible even within the walls of the Blue Palace.

I glanced over and saw the High Queen, pale as snow on her throne. I rose, my staff in hand. "Do excuse me, Your Majesty," I said softly, bowing. "I would advise that you retreat to the lower levels until this crisis is absolved."

She nodded, her brown eyes serious. "Good luck, Thane."

I tilted my head in acknowledgement. I turned and moved swiftly out the doors. Once outside, I climbed up to one of the nearby roofs. The dragon roared again as it circled the city, and I could feel the dragon soul within me resonating with the call, calling for bloodshed and battle.

The beast's great claws fell on the ramparts of Castle Dour and I could just barely hear the sound of soldiers shouting for reinforcements. I grinned, casting a fireball and sending it at the dragon. It roared, flames licking at the stones.

I couldn't summon Odahviing, not here. It would break my cover. And then I would have to deal with the simpering, annoying morons who would want my help. No thank you, I had had enough of that.

I pursed my lips, studying the dragon. It looked like my only choice would be to fight it on foot and with my summons. I summoned Lucien, the assassin spirit almost translucent in the sunlight.

"Listener," he purred, bowing his head.

"Be careful what you say aloud, Lucien," I said, keeping my eyes on the dragon. He laughed, the sound cold and dead.

"Of course, Thane," he answered. "What is your bidding?"

I gestured towards the dragon. The spirit nodded. "You wish for me to distract it?"

"Yes, see if you can keep casualties to a minimum."

The ghostly assassin leapt from the roof, drawing his blades as he went. I followed, jumping across the next roof, casting a barrage of lightning at the beast's head. It screamed, coughing flames into the air.

I ran on, throwing icy spears at the dragon, which shattered against its scaly hide. It would distract it even if it wouldn't injure it. Its great head turned, and when it caught sight of me, it snarled aloud, shrieking draconic curses at me.

It did not use the word Dovahkiin, for which I was glad. I summoned two dremora lords, sending them charging at the dragon. They would at least help a little. I saw Lucien's shimmering form dancing around the dragon's wings, his blade stabbing the thick membranes, dark blood oozing down to stone parapets.

I winced as the dragon slashed one of my dremora in half. The other daedra was managing to avoid its brethren's fate, dodging another swipe with ease. I hurled another row of spears, these ones conjured from lightning.

I rolled to avoid dragonfire, and saw my last dremora get roasted. I swore, rising and casting another group of lightning spears. Lucien was laughing, his maniacal grin barely visible from under his hood. Ass.

I swung my staff, calling fire to my aid once more. The dragon roared, "Dinok wah vax do dovah sos, feyn do gein zok suleykaar!" Its voice shook the ground.

Death to (the) traitor of dragon blood, bane of one most powerful. I translated the words with relative ease. Ah, they meant Alduin. I smirked, "To the Void with you," I murmured, lifting my hands and summoning a blade that would pierce dragonscale as if it were parchment.

It gleamed in the sunlight, the hilt warm and heavy in my hand. I grinned; I had always wanted to try this again. The last time I had used this sword on a dragon, it had been a rather weak and dull fight.

This dragon, however, was clearly older, its scales greyed and in some places flaking. Yes, this one was much older than the other one I had faced. And perhaps weakened by age, I realized as it stalked towards me, talons cracking the stones.

It bared teeth, "Zu'u fen gunaar hin kiir ko dii jot, vax!" I will crush your child in my maw, traitor!

I snarled, protective rage welling up inside me, unthinkingly answering in the same tongue, "Zu'u fen krii hi diist!" I will kill you first!

It roared again, and dove for me. I leapt, the dragon's head passing just under me. I slammed the sword home. The dragon gasped, a strangled, choking noise. "Join your kin in the Void," I hissed, sending its soul screaming into the realm of the Dread Father.

I didn't even want to absorb the damned thing. Thank Sithis I had discovered a way to channel souls into the Void on a whim. It also allowed me to keep my cover.

"Is it dead?" a voice called up. I blinked, I had forgotten there were soldiers. I vanished the sword as Lucien reappeared at my side.

"Good fight, Listener," he purred. I flicked my fingers at him, sending him back to the Void. I heaved a sigh. Hopefully no one had heard my slip up. I didn't think I had enough magic to be able to wipe the words from the minds of everyone in the area.

"It's dead," I called back, "Although someone else is going to have to get rid of the body."

There were groans from down below.

Tullius appeared on the ramparts. His eyes widened considerably when he took in the dragon. "You really managed to kill it then?" he said, stepping carefully around the beast's body.

"It would seem that way," I said, rolling my staff absent-mindedly between my fingers. I supposed that I would have to find a dragon out in the middle of nowhere and fight it if I wanted a good fight. "Kind of wish there had been more blood though," I muttered in High elven.

"Beg pardon?"

"Nothing," I said, leaning on my staff, watching him. There had been a glimmer of something in his eyes, I knew it.

He shook his head, "Someday, Stormborn, you and I are going to have a long talk about destroying parts of the city."

"That incident that I believe you are referring to was not my fault," I said, a sincere smile on my lips.

He raised an eyebrow, frowning at me. I walked past him, "Besides General, the bridge was repaired within a week and the populace stopped complaining. The damage this time really isn't too bad."

"Sir!" a shout from a scout below stopped Tullius from answering. "No deaths reported, sir!"

I grinned, turning my gaze to the shocked general. "See, no deaths this time."

Tullius sighed, rubbing his temples. "One of these days, Stormborn, one of these days…"

I chuckled, "We'll see. Have a pleasant rest of the day, Tullius." I walked quickly down the steps, through the courtyard and back to the Palace.


	7. Dragon's fire and Dragon's blood II

I walked past several guards who were whispering to one another at the doors of the Blue Palace; I passed by quickly, climbing the stairs to the throne room. Elisif was just settling back onto her throne. They must have had a messenger sent to inform them that the dragon had been slain.

She smiled when she saw me. "Thane Stormborn, you are uninjured, I take it?"

I bowed, "Yes, Your Majesty." I returned to my seat at her side. "The dragon is dead and there were surprisingly no deaths."

She nodded, "That is good."

Bryling snorted, her brown eyes skeptical. "I'm still unconvinced that you could take down a dragon on your own."

I let the insult roll off me, a calm and practiced smile on my lips as I retorted back "Perhaps if you had been outside at the time, you could have seen for yourself, Bryling. I'm sure the reports will testify to what has transpired."

Bryling's eyes flashed, but she kept her mouth shut. Elisif had turned her suddenly steely gaze to the other thane. The High Queen's eyes were soft once more when they flickered back to me.

"Thank you for your service to our fair city, Thane."

"I am honored, Your Majesty," I murmured, tilting my head slightly. Elisif flushed, and gestured for Falk Firebeard to continue his report, of which he had been in the middle of when the word came of the dragon.

The steward cleared his throat, "As I was saying…"

A tug at my sleeve caught my attention. At my left, hidden in the shadows, a small girl waved at me. She grinned and I swore softly. Babette.

"Nazir wants to see you," she said, her grin dropping away. "Says it's urgent." She spoke in the fast-paced language of Cyrodiil, the soft sounds going almost unnoticed as most were looking to Falk.

Bryling had heard though as had Elisif, though she kept her eyes trained on her steward, occasionally casting a glance at me.

"How urgent?" I replied in the same tongue.

"Very," she said. She looked worried then, her serious mask falling away to reveal a concerned Sister of the Brotherhood. "Some of the new recruits are…off."

"Off?" I questioned.

"Yes."

I sighed softly, "All right, he knows where to meet me."

"How soon?"

"Tonight if need be," I said.

She nodded. "Of course." She vanished into the shadows without a sound.

I returned my attention to the court. Bryling looked thoughtful. Not good. I frowned, what was going on inside her head? I idly drummed my fingers against the wood of my chair. On the floor, Falk wrapped up his report.

"I believe we shall have a recess," Elisif declared. I looked up. "Thane Stormborn, I would speak with you."

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

She rose and motioned for me to follow. I complied, my staff tapping on the stone floor. We took the stairs down, exiting out into the bright sunlight.

"Tell me, Thane, of the battle with the dragon," she requested softly.

"There is not much to tell, Your Majesty," I said truthfully. She frowned.

"Surely there must be something?" she said.

"If you count a barrage of fire, ice and lightning something, then yes I suppose there was."

"Then you used magic to slay it?" she said, seating herself on a nearby bench that sat in a small area of to the side of the Palace. I remained standing.

"Yes," I said, which was partially true. She nodded, her eyes distant.

"I see. What was the damage done to Castle Dour?"

"I couldn't say for sure," I told her, "I only saw a little of the damage, seeing as I was focused on the dragon. But I know for certain that the ramparts were damaged by the dragon's claws."

Another frown, "How long do you think it will take to fix?"

I shrugged, "Maybe a week or a few days depending on the damage, Your Majesty. I cannot say for sure."

She sighed, "At least there were no deaths."

"Indeed, Your Majesty."

She twisted her hands in her lap, indecision clear on her face. "I would ask something of you, Thane Stormborn."

"What is it, Your Majesty?"

"I have heard rumors of a strange group of masked men ranging the land, threatening travelers. I would like you to look into it if you have time."

I mused over the idea. "Are they in the hold?"

"They were spotted near Dragon Bridge almost a week ago, heading south."

"If they are not in our hold, why should we bother with them?" I asked. A week would be long enough to leave cross any of our borders.

"They threaten my people, they should be shown the error of their ways," she stated, her eyes flashing with a fire I saw rarely.

I bowed, repressing a retort that might get me thrown in the dungeon, "As you wish, Your Majesty. I will look into it as soon as I can."

She smiled, "Thank you," she paused, then continued. "Who was the girl who spoke to you?"

"An associate, she came to deliver some…worrying news."

"Will it take you away from court?" The High Queen asked, tilting her head to look at me.

"It may for a time," I said, choosing my words carefully. "I can however look into both that matter and yours simultaneously."

She nodded, "When will you be leaving?"

"Tonight at the earliest."

"Then I wish you safe travels, Thane Stormborn and pray you come back to Solitude safe."

"My thanks, Your Majesty," I bowed low once more and left.

The streets were quiet, but from Castle Dour, I could hear the sound of men working and the clank of iron against stone. Repairs, it seemed were already in progress. I walked on.

Neria was outside Proudspire, on the steps, talking excitedly to a few of her friends. I caught sight of a familiar Redguard across the street. Nazir, one of the few survivors from the Falkreath Sanctuary. I wondered if he and Babette had arrived together.

I sighed. This would be interesting at least.

I turned sharply, gesturing for him to follow. He nodded, falling in behind me. "What's the situation?" I asked, reverting to the Redguard language.

"Three of the recruits have large gaps in their memory, Avanna can't remember the last two days, and both Deep-streams and Calia report that they have at least two hours of missing time from their memories," Nazir reported in his native language.

"Someone removed their memories…and did it without alarming them. Why did they not report this sooner?" I murmured, this did not bode well.

"It was attributed at first to a night drinking, with Deep-streams and Calia. Avenna only arrived last night. That's when I sent Babette to inform you." Nazir said, easily keeping pace with my long stride.

"Could it be someone within the Brotherhood?" I questioned, wondering if we faced another coup.

"It might be," Nazir said as we rounded a corner, past the Hall of the Dead. "I have another theory though."

"And that is?"

"There are rumors of a master vampire living up in the mountains."

"And you think he's just taking our recruits because…?"

Nazir shrugged, "All three have shown sign of being fed from, pale, shaky. None are infected," he added, seeing my grimace.

"One good piece of news out of a whole slew of bad," I grumbled. "So, our recruits are being used as a vampire's food supply and we have no idea where he is. Great."

"We have been looking for him," Nazir offered.

I glared at him. "And for all we know, anyone looking for him is going to be fed upon and their memories taken."

The Redguard sighed, "Yeah, the situation is not looking bright."

We turned again, heading back towards the Blue Palace. Neria was giggling loudly over something one of her friends had said.

"I'll meet you by stables in a two hours," I said, making my decision.

"As you command," he said.

He bowed. "As you wish, my Listener," he murmured the last words lowly and with reverence.

"Do not be late, Speaker," I said softly as he turned to leave.

"Yes, sir."

I watched him go, pondering the idea of a vampire in the mountains. Where would he hide? And more importantly, how would I kill him?


	8. Dragon's fire and Dragon's blood III

I hummed softly to myself, tucking another dagger into its sheath at my belt. I glanced around the room; I had everything I needed, right? I grabbed my staff from its resting place by the door, swinging my bag over my shoulder.

My wife watched with worried eyes. "How long do you think you'll be away?"

"I am not sure," I said, stepping closer to her, tracing the curve of her jaw with my free hand.

She sighed, fixing me with a suddenly determined gaze. "You come back uninjured, you hear? I don't want to see you so near death again. I couldn't—," she broke off, one hand clapping over her mouth.

"I promise I will come back to you," I murmured softly, tilting her head so our eyes met once more. "I will return, alive and unscathed." I kissed her gently.

My wife gave a small smile. "I believe you." Neria walked by the room then and did an abrupt about-face.

"Papa? Are you going somewhere?"

"The High Queen has asked me to look into something," I said. My daughter's posture stiffened, no doubt remembering what had happened the last time I had looked into something for one of the higher authorities in the city.

"Please be careful," she said quietly.

I smiled, "Aren't I always?"

She snorted, "I wouldn't say that."

I chuckled, ruffling her blonde hair as I passed, ignoring her annoyed "Papa!" My wife followed me down the stairs. Jordis was watching my two sons chase each other around the foyer from her seat by the window, her dark eyes amused.

"Good afternoon, my Thane," she murmured, rising and bowing slightly.

"Jordis," I acknowledged.

"I wish you safe travels, Thane," she said.

"Thank you," I replied, "Protect them with your life while I am away."

She saluted, her eyes fierce and bright with pride. "Yes, sir!"

I knelt down, my sons flinging themselves into my arms. "Papa! Papa!" They cheered.

"Daris, Nandil, I'm going away for a while but I'll be back soon. I want you to be good for Mama alright?"

Nandil blinked, "Papa come back?" he questioned.

"Yes, I will come back," I said. Daris tugged at my sleeve, smiling.

"Love you Papa," he chirped, his red-gold eyes bright in his dark face.

"I love you too," I said, kissing first his forehead, then his brother's. I stood, "I'll return as soon as I can."

My wife nodded. "Azura will watch over you."

I smiled. "I pray She does."

She kissed me softly, "Be safe."

"I will."

Neria stepped forwards, having trailed us into the foyer. She hugged me tightly, "Don't get killed."

I chuckled, "I'll be fine, Neria. Don't worry about it." She released me, somewhat reluctantly.

I paused, memorizing the scene before me. My wife, tall and beautiful. My children, bright and bold. I would carry the image in my memory until I returned.

I opened the door and stepped outside. My wife followed. "Wait."

"What is it?" I asked.

She kissed me again, "I love you."

"And I you," I replied. I turned and left.

Nazir was waiting for me at the stables, Shadowmere standing beside him. The mare whinnied when she saw me. I suppressed a smile. For a creature of the Void, she was rather fond of me.

Nazir bowed low, holding a scroll out to me as he straightened, "This arrived about twenty minutes ago. Scout reports from the mountains."

"Have they found anything?" I queried, taking the scroll, patting Shadowmere's head as she nudged me.

"Remnants of a camp and tracks that lead further into a nearby cave," Nazir reported.

I glanced over the contents of the scroll, frowning. "…an Ancient vampire," I read aloud, raising an eyebrow at my subordinate.

"Yes," he said.

"Hmm, I haven't hunted such a creature in nearly a hundred years," I mused, "this should be…interesting." I mounted Shadowmere, urging her forwards.

"Interesting?" Nazir asked, swinging into the saddle of his own horse, a rust-colored mare. He clicked his tongue, the mare walking slowly out of the stable yard after Shadowmere.

"Yes," I said, guiding Shadowmere onto the road leading away from Solitude, towards Dragon Bridge. "Ancient vampires are usually hard to find; their old age makes them cautious and wary. This one must be dazed somehow, otherwise he would not be so lax about leaving his victims alive as well as evidence of his lair."

"You think he will be easy to kill?" Nazir questioned, his horse now walking sedately beside mine.

I laughed, "That depends on how dazed he is. If he has awoken from a deep slumber, then it all comes down to how long he was sleeping. The longer he is asleep, the longer it takes for him to regain his equilibrium. Sunlight will also cause more harm than normal."

"You seem to know a lot on the subject," Nazir observed.

"I studied a great deal on my travels, on many subjects: werewolves, vampires, even tree spirits."

"What about dragons?"

I nodded, "Dragons as well. Not that there was very much to go on. Until the Stormcloak rebellion, dragons were thought gone from Nirn."

"I suppose that you've had time to observe the dragons," Nazir said, "now that they've returned."

"I have," I replied. "We are however, getting off track. We were speaking of the Ancient vampire."

"True," Nazir said.

"The Ancient will be vulnerable as all vampires are, at least to some degree, to sunlight. We can use that against him." I tugged on Shadowmere's reins and she halted. Nazir copied the action, turning in the saddle to face me.

"I must warn you," I said, holding his gaze. "Even if he is weakened, he still holds a tremendous amount of power. He may catch us in thrall or turn us against one another. Other possibilities may arise from this confrontation…you must hold nothing back when you face him," I said, "Hesitation could mean death."

"I understand, my Listener," Nazir replied. "But death does not frighten me."

"Nor I," I said, "We must protect the Sanctuary and the Brotherhood at all costs. This vampire is causing our Family harm and we must repay that upon him."

"What is it that you ask of me?" Nazir said, his brown eyes dark.

I smiled grimly, "If the vampire catches me in thrall…"

Nazir began to protest the possibility. I held up a hand and he silenced. "You must not restrain even an ounce of your abilities. I cannot rule out the possibility of being controlled. I can and will kill you if he commands it. I would have little choice in the matter."

"The Tenets…," Nazir protested.

"I know what the Tenets say," I said, my voice icy. "I am asking you to try not to kill but render me incapable of attacking you. Preferably without killing me."

Nazir was quiet for a long moment. "I will try, Listener. I can promise no more."

I nodded, nudging Shadowmere forwards. "Come, we have much ground to cover before dark."

I could only hope that it wouldn't come down to using my Shouts. But, I reflected somberly, it might be the only that kept both Nazir and I becoming thralls to a vampire…


	9. Dragon's fire and Dragon's blood IV

It took us four days to get to Dawnstar. The temperature had dropped significantly in the time it had taken us to reach the Sanctuary and the sun had dropped below the horizon nearly an hour before we arrived. I was glad that we had a stable built into the rock of the mountains, so our horses wouldn't feel the sting of the cold.

The Sanctuary's main entrance tunnel stretched from the heart of the Sanctuary itself all the way to the escape hatch just outside of Dawnstar. We had built four other such routes in the years after the reconstruction; better safe than sorry. We however took the main thoroughfare, moving swiftly but silently through the town around to the shore. The stables' stone doors were pushed open as we neared.

I slid down from Shadowmere, hearing Nazir do the same. Two initiates, one a Bosmer and the other an Argonian, were waiting for us, the Bosmer split off to take our horses while the Argonian stood still as we approached.

"Listener, Speaker," the Argonian bowed, black eyes gleaming in the lantern light.

"Walks-in-shadows," I greeted him, "Any news?"

"No, Listener," he replied, "not since the last report."

"Which detailed what exactly?" I said, walking further into the Sanctuary. "I've heard only that three of our initiates have been taken, used as food for a vampire and then had their memories wiped and returned."

Walks-in-shadows jerked his head towards the door, "Not here," he said, "Inside."

I reached the door, scarcely hearing the question "What is life's greatest illusion?" that came from within.

"Innocence, my Brother," I purred. The door swung open. I stepped quickly into the Sanctuary. The dining hall was crowded as we had arrived during the evening meal. "Listener!" came the cry.

I raised a hand in greeting, before continuing on into the inner heart of the Sanctuary where the Night Mother now lay. We had added more rooms to the Sanctuary as we recruited, the inner sanctum being one of them. It housed the Night Mother and her coffin, a far more fitting place than the alcove above the dining hall.

Tapestries of the Black Hand draped the walls, and the Night Mother's coffin sat on a raised dais that was arrayed in scarlet cloth. It was closed for the moment, the remains of Sithis's Bride safely encased within. A low murmur echoed in my mind, a summons. Walks-in-shadows' news would have to wait.

Cicero bounced up to me, "Listener! Cicero is so pleased to see you return! Mother is no doubt happy as well!"

"It is good to see you, Keeper Cicero," I said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, keeping him from getting too close. I still disliked people touching me. "I must speak with the Night Mother."

Cicero nodded, grinning and retreated to a side room. Nazir and Walks-in-shadows followed him. I cast a glance over the coffin and then knelt at its foot, bowing my head.

"Welcome home, child of Sithis." Her raspy voice echoed through my ears. "You have sent so many to the Void. Well done."

"I am glad to be of service, O Night Mother," I murmured. A laugh, cold and dead fluttered through my mind.

"Ever the obedient son, aren't you?"Her glee was evident but it soon faded. "Someone has stolen from our Family, my child. You must destroy him for this sin."

"You mean the vampire?" I asked.

"Yes,"she hissed the word. "Kill him and send his soul to the Void where Sithis shall deal with him as He sees fit."

"As you command," I said softly.

"I sense that he is a creature of old and will not be defeated easily." She seemed to muse over an idea for a few long minutes. "I will lay a spell upon you, my child, so that he will not send you to the Dread Father's halls as quickly as he has lesser men. Killing him will be your task and your task alone."

"As you will it, Night Mother," I replied, bracing myself. The feeling of something like cobwebs fell over me, clinging to my skin.

"It is done. Be warned, it will last only until the vampire is dead. After, you shall be on your own."

"Thank you, Night Mother," I said.

"Go and send his soul to the Void."

"It will be done." I rose and walked into the next room where Cicero and the others were waiting.

"Well?" Nazir asked, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

"I am to go after the vampire," I reported. "Alone."

"What?!" Nazir said, dark eyes flashing, posture suddenly stiff.

"The Night Mother has commanded it," I said coolly, "she has also given me her protection."

Nazir relaxed slightly. "Then you will kill him?"

"Yes," I turned to Walks-in-shadows who sat on a nearby chair, his claws clasped before him, tail twitching restlessly. "Your report?"

"We believe that the vampire has a lair in the northern mountains, about an hour's ride from the town. All reports indicate that he is old, possibly Ancient," his voice faltered for a moment but he pushed on, "…Another was taken just this afternoon," he said quietly. "Alwaen."

My heart clenched in my chest. I had recruited her, trained her myself in the early days after the assassination of Titus Mede II, when the Brotherhood was still fragile and weakened. "How long ago?" My voice was flat, emotionless.

"Nearly three hours, Listener," Walks-in-shadows nearly whispered. I nodded.

"Very well," I murmured, "I will track the vampire myself. Nazir, you're in charge until I return. Put the Sanctuary on lockdown. Do we have any members on their way back from assignment?"

"No."

"Then let no one in or out until I return."

"Yes, Listener," he said softly.

I walked quickly from the room, taking the stairs two at a time. I knew that the vampire had only used the other recruits as food before wiping their memories and returning them to where they had been, but that could easily change. And the longer we waited, the more at risk the Family was…

I moved silently through the main hall, up to the stables. Shadowmere was waiting for me, her red eyes glowing like rubies in the dim light. She whinnied, her hooves striking the ground with a soft thud.

I swung up into the saddle, nudging her into a walk. The Bosmer tending one of the other horses looked up as I moved past them.

"Good hunting, my Listener. Sithis guard you."

I nodded, exiting the stables, taking the northern path that led into the mountains. I paused at the crest of the hill, halting and dropping to the ground to study the snow for a trail. The weak moonlight illuminated much of the landscape but here on the hill, the ground was uneven and difficult to read. I pursed my lips, summoning an orb to better light the path. There! I smiled, the creature had indeed gone north.

I let the light die and climbed back into the saddle, urging Shadowmere into a trot. Shadowmere's footfalls were silent, her breath white puffs in the night air.

We reached the mountains without incident, and I dismounted, casting another small hovering light. The ground was almost clean of any trail. Almost. I glanced towards the mountain, moving quietly through the snow. Shadowmere followed after.

The trail led to a small cave. I cast an invisibility spell, layering a sound suppressing spell over that. It never hurt to be overly cautious when dealing with vampires. "Stay here," I murmured to Shadowmere, who merely tossed her head in acknowledgement.

I crept inside, praying to Sithis that Alwaen was still alive.


	10. Dragon's fire and Dragon's blood V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has fought me tooth and nail in its writing. That being said, I am pretty happy in how it has turned out. I believe that there will be one more chapter after this to wrap up the Dragon's fire arc and then we will be moving on to the next arc in the story.  
> The chapters may be a while in coming as I have midterms this week but I might post again during my spring break.  
> Anyway, read and leave comments please, I love hearing feedback!

There was a strange stillness to the air as I walked further into the cavern. It felt like the calm before the storm; an eerie, unsettling feeling that skittered down my spine. I gritted my teeth, forcing my nerves to settle. I had fought vampires before; I was  _not_  afraid.

I moved on, studying the ground to keep track of where the vampire had gone. He had been using the passage often and the most recent trail showed that he had returned, heading east and deeper into the mountain. I followed.

A few tunnels began to branch off the main route, but I ignored them. My prey had not used them and so I would not do so either.

The path began to narrow. I paused, hearing the soft crunch of feet through snow. Harsh, ragged breathing was audible from just around the corner. A few footsteps later and Alwaen stumbled into view. She was pale, her steps unsure and shaky.

Her golden eyes were dazed and she leaned against the wall for support. I held back my initial reaction to run to her. It could be a trap. I quietly cast a spell that would identify any vampires in the area. Nothing…

I dropped my invisibility spell and darted to her side just as she sank to the ground.

"…L-listener?" she asked, her teeth chattering.

"I'm here," I said, cradling her against me. She was freezing cold. I murmured a few healing spells along with a cure vampirism spell. I didn't know if she had been infected but it never hurt to be sure.

She regained some of her color, her eyes becoming more focused and clear. "Listener, t-the v-v-vampire…"

"He's an Ancient, isn't he?" I asked, calling up a few floating orbs of fire. The air began to warm almost instantly.

She shook her head, still shaking. "Yes, b-but h-h-he's after y-you."

I froze. What?

"Why would he want me?" I questioned her, glancing around. The tunnel remained deserted, save for us.

"Y-you're p-p-powerful," Alwaen said, "t-the others w-were just snacks…I-I don't know…why he…" another shiver wracked her body.

"I will find out," I said, casting a small warming spell on her. I summoned a dremora lord and a flame atronach. "Guard her," I ordered the dremora before turning to the atronach.

"Gradually heat the area," I commanded it. The feminine figure inclined its head, turning its attention towards Alwaen. The Altmer was looking less pale, her shivers easing somewhat as the air warmed.

"What now?" Alwaen asked, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. I pursed my lips, thinking.

"He just let you go? Without erasing your memory?" I asked, casting a few more floating fireballs and setting her down.

"Yes, because it's a trap," she said quietly, her teeth no longer chattering but I could see her shivering still. She leaned back against the wall. "You've already sprung it and he knows that you're coming to kill him. I was just a lure."

I uttered a quiet bark of a laugh. "Indeed."

"You're going to kill him, yes?" Alwaen said, her eyes fixed on mine.

"Yes."

"Make it painful," she told me, pointing down the tunnel. "He's that way, not far now."

I nodded and rose. "I will. Try not to freeze to death while I'm gone."

She laughed. "Try not to die, Listener."

I glanced in the direction she had indicated and set off. It didn't take long to find him.

He wasn't hiding; rather he stood out in the open, a dark and imposing figure against the ice and snow of the cavern. I raised an eyebrow.

"You were waiting for me," I stated. The Ancient tilted his head, watching me. Dark red eyes in ashen skin probing for any weaknesses.

"Of course," he said, voice cool. I could hear the barely concealed anger and contempt that lurked beneath.

"You've been taking my people," I growled, raising my staff, slipping into a fighting stance.

"To get to you," he replied as we began to circle each other.

"Why?"

"You have  _ruined_ plans that were  _years_  in the making. Harkon and I had been preparing for the darkening of the sun for ages! And you, you hapless fool wrecked the entire plan within weeks!"

I blinked. "…What?" I paused, keeping my staff up just in case he decided to lunge.

The vampire scowled at me, "You killed Harkon and foiled our plans of darkening the sun! You and that whelp of Harkon's!"

I smirked, remembering, "Yeah, that was an interesting couple of weeks. Found a few Elder scrolls, killed a  _lot_  of vampires, and destroyed an ancient prophecy…"

He hissed angrily at me, "It took me a year to track you down. I admit I was surprised to find that you led that band of murderers. From there it was merely a matter of drawing you out."

I gritted my teeth. I had walked right into his trap; that was true. But I had the Night-Mother's blessing on my side, and a dragon's soul. I could take him.

"Then I guess I'll be adding the death of another Ancient vampire to my list of kills," I purred, suddenly confident of victory.

He snarled, cursing me, and lunged. He was  _fast_. I dove to the side, his claws just barely missing my legs as I rolled. I brought my staff up, the glow of a fireball turning the vampire's eyes to blazing pinpoints of light in his pallid face.

He snarled again, baring gleaming fangs as he dodged the flames. I leapt, summoning glowing spears of light to my aid. He screamed as one slashed his arm, streams of smoke rising from the wound.

I grinned, throwing another group of spears in his direction. A few made contact which only made the Ancient angrier. I just managed to avoid the icy blast of frost magic.

I hissed a curse under my breath and Shout. "Yol Toor Shul!"  _Fire Breath_. The flames rushed forward, sweeping around the vampire, directed by my will. Frost gathered in his palms, extinguishing the flames. I cast a barrier around myself just in time for a barrage of ice spears to shatter against it.

The spell held, barely. I Shout again, throwing all of my anger and rage behind it. "Rii Vaaz Zol!"  _Soul Tear._  I had learned the Shout from an ancient dragon that had been trapped in the Soul Cairn. The vampire shrieked, but didn't drop.

He lunged forward and I threw a ball of concentrated sunlight. He swerved, moving to flank me. I called another barrier in existence, the blue light forming a dome around me and he halted, dark eyes sweeping over the spell, looking for weaknesses.

Soul Tear hadn't worked on him…did that mean he had no soul to take? No, he had to have a soul, the Shout had hurt him but hadn't taken his soul…was it perhaps his Ancient status that made him resistant to it?

I created another barrier, layering it within the first as a reinforcement while I tried to figure out how to defeat him. I summoned a sword, the ethereal blade flickering with lightning. I grinned as an idea came to me.

I would have to move quickly; it could go very badly if I messed up my chance. I wasn't sure how much damage the Night Mother's protection could subvert but I didn't want to find out the hard way.

I gathered fire to me, spreading it over the barrier, the air becoming charged with magical energy. I smiled grimly and caused the barrier to explode, the shield shattering into thousands of burning fragments.

I threw myself forwards. "Su Grah Dun!"  _Elemental Fury._ My sword came slashing down, a movement made far faster than before by my Shout, lightning setting the room aglow. The vampire didn't even have time to cry out as my spectral blade separated his head from his shoulders.

The headless body toppled over, a quiet thud to the snowy floor of the cavern where it dissolved into ash. Lightning had a habit of turning things to ash. I didn't look around for the head, it too would have gone the same way as the rest of the body. I felt the Night-Mother's protection vanish, the feeling of cobwebs draped over me suddenly missing. The sword in my hand vanished.

I sighed, leaning heavily on my staff. I had used nearly all of my magic in that last attack.

A metallic glint in the pile of ashes caught my eye and I knelt, brushing away the ash. A ring. A black stone sat on a band of gold surrounded by metal. The symbol of House R'an, a scroll pierced by a fang shone in the midst of the stone. I held back a gasp of shock. How was this vampire connected to my wife's maiden House?

I traced the markings with a finger, thinking. Perhaps this was a distant relative? House R'an was large; I myself had only met a few of the members of my wife's family when we married. I frowned, rising to my feet and sliding the ring into a pocket. I would have more time to ponder the question later. I needed to return to the Brotherhood.

I glanced around and after setting fire to the few documents that the vampire had left behind that disclosed my identity as Listener, set off back down the tunnels, up towards where I had left Alwaen. She looked up warily from her seat by the wall, a fireball at her fingertips. The dremora and the atronach hovered nearby. She let the flames die as I approached.

"He is dead?" she queried.

I nodded, dismissing my summons with a wave of my hand. Alwaen stood.

"Are you well?" she asked, concern in her golden eyes. She made a move to touch my arm, but hesitated.

"I am fine," I said, "Come, we should return to the Brotherhood."

We walked quickly to the mouth of the cave. A snowstorm had risen in the time it had taken for me to kill the vampire, and Shadowmere now stood just inside the cave, her red eyes gleaming. She gave a quiet snort as we approached.

"We are going to freeze," Alwaen said, swinging into Shadowmere's saddle. I copied her.

"Not if Shadowmere runs," I said, urging her into a gallop. The mare whinnied, the sound lost in the snowstorm, and leapt forward.

For nearly an hour, the only sound I could hear was the howl of the wind and the thud of my heartbeat. The landscape was an indistinguishable white blur around us.

Alwaen was shivering again, murmuring soft words of prayer to Sithis under her breath. I added my own prayers to the Night Mother as we rode. I hoped we were close now. The sudden flare of lantern light that marked the edge of the stables caught my eye. Shadowmere turned towards it, slowing as we neared the doors.

I gestured sharply and the doors swung open. Shadowmere huffed, easing to a halt just inside the doors. I dropped lightly to the ground, helping Alwaen to dismount.

Another wave of my hand and the doors shut. I led Shadowmere to an empty stall. She nudged my shoulder with her head. I smiled tiredly.

"I'll get someone to get you a bag of apples later," I told her. She huffed again.

"Promise."

Alwaen patted Shadowmere's head as we moved away. "I'll get you sugar cubes," she whispered. Shadowmere snorted at the idea, stomping her feet restlessly.

The door to the Sanctuary opened before we even reached it, Nazir and the others stepping through. I was glad, the exhaustion had begun to set in.

Walks-in-shadows darted over to support Alwaen, Nazir appearing at my side, slinging an arm around my waist.

"He is dead?" Nazir asked.

I managed a weary laugh, "Yes, turned to ash. He will not bother us anymore."

"That's good," Nazir said, as we walked slowly through the empty dining hall. Alwaen and Walks-in-shadows had vanished earlier down another passageway.

"I should…report to the Night Mother," I said, the words heavy and lead-like on my tongue.

"Your report can wait until you've rested," my Speaker replied, leading me to my room.

I sighed, "…alright." I set my staff on a nearby table, before collapsing on the bed. "Thank you, Nazir," I murmured.

"It's nothing, my Listener. Get some sleep."

I barely had time to register the words before sleep took me.


	11. Dragon's fire and Dragon's blood VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been sitting on this chapter for at least a month. I've actually really struggled writing the last page or so of the chapter but I feel like at this point it is as good as it's going to get. Please leave a review, I always enjoy hearing feedback!

I knelt before the Night Mother’s coffin, the torchlight flickering off the metal of the casket. It was morning, the room was quiet, and Cicero was mercifully absent, asleep most likely as were most members of the Sanctuary.

I bowed my head and waited. It was not long before the familiar raspy voice echoed in my mind.

_“I see that it is done. Excellent work, child of Sithis. I am pleased.”_

“Thank you, Night Mother,” I murmured.

She laughed, the sound skittering down my spine. “ _Go and spread the fear of Sithis’s children, Listener. I look forward to seeing more of your work.”_

“As you command, Night Mother,” I said. I felt her presence dissipate like mist and I rose. I bowed and left.

Nazir blinked in surprise as I entered the dining hall, “You’re awake?”

“Apparently,” I said, taking a seat across from him. A mug of steaming tea sat in front of my second in command, the kettle resting nearby.

“I thought you would have slept more,” Nazir commented, “You looked exhausted.”

“I was,” I said, pulling an empty mug over to me and grabbing the kettle to pour myself some tea.

Nazir snorted, taking a sip from his mug. “Workaholic.”

“And who is the one who is up at this early hour?” I pointed at him, “you.”

“That…is true,” Nazir admitted. He paused, indecision flickering over his face.

I sighed, “Ask your questions, Nazir, before your head explodes from overthinking. I would _hate_ to have to explain to the rest of the Brotherhood what happened.”

He relaxed, “The vampire, was he really an Ancient?”

“Yes,” I said, curling my hands around the warm mug.

“Did you find out why he was taking recruits?”

“He wanted me,” I said shortly. I reached into my pocket, pulling out the ring I had taken and tossed it on the table. “I found this in his ashes.”

Nazir frowned, picking up the ring and examining it. “Can’t say I know the symbol. Do you?”

“House R’an, of Morrowind,” I said, swallowing a gulp of my tea. “Apparently I ruined some plans of his a while back.” I shrugged, “One more dead vampire to my list.”

“One _Ancient_ dead vampire,” Nazir corrected. “Have you killed Ancients before?”

“One before that one,” I said. “And that one was technically a Vampire Lord.”

Nazir sighed into his mug, “You always get the fun kills.”

“Hardly,” I replied, gesturing for the ring back. Nazir handed it over and as he did the light illuminated something I had not seen in the dim light of the cavern. A name inscribed along the edge of the band.

It was written in a curving, neat hand. _Casil R’an._

“Hmm,” I mused, I knew I had seen the name before…

“What is it?” Nazir asked.

“This name,” I said, “Does the name Casil R’an ring any bells?”

“Ah! Yes, as a matter of fact it does,” Nazir said, his brown eyes bright with realization. “He was a member of the Brotherhood nearly three hundred years ago, left to become a member of the Morag Tong but didn’t stay with them long. Last the Brotherhood or the Morag Tong heard of him was at the end of the Oblivion Crisis; he was in Morrowind at the time. It was thought he died when Red Mountain erupted.”

“I guess he didn’t,” I said, turning the ring over in my hands. “Was he a vampire when he joined?”

“No, according to what records we managed to save and store in our safe houses, he was turned sometime after he joined the Tong.”

“Interesting,” I said, taking another sip of tea. “And you know of this why?”

Nazir shrugged, “I read the records for fun, and sometimes there are interesting stories to be found.”

“Does Casil R’an ring any other bells for you?” he asked, rotating his mug in his hands, the ceramic scraping quietly across the wooden table.

I flicked my eyes to meet his. “And if it does?”

“Just curious,” he said, raising his hands slightly.

“It does,” I said, returning the ring to my pocket and dropping my right hand over my left as I began to fiddle with my wedding ring. A nervous tick I had unfortunately had difficulty getting rid of.

Nazir raised an eyebrow. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with Brotherhood business, I won’t pry,” he said, leaning back in his chair, mug in hand.

“I…thank you, Nazir,” I said, grateful for the support.

He nodded, “Of course.”

I changed the subject, not willing to linger on what I had discovered, “What are the newest contracts we’ve received?”

“Well,” Nazir said, pulling a large satchel from the seat next to him and opening it, “Aside from the ones that the Night Mother has directly told you, we have at least twenty new contracts.”

He pulled a small stack of parchment out and handed it to me. “There is one in Solitude, actually, if you wanted to take it.”

I scanned the top page. Hmm, someone wanted a courier dead. Seemed kind of petty, but it _was_ business… A name caught my eye, Bryling had requested the kill.

I grinned, oh this was _interesting_. Why did she want _this_ courier killed? What purpose could it serve?

I sighed. There were other matters that needed my attention, I did not have time to take a contract. “I am afraid that I must decline the offer. I will observe the events that will unfold from it though.”

“You know who requested it?”

“Yes, and I do wonder why…” I hummed. “Is there anything else?”

Nazir perused another set of documents. “We have a few new candidates for recruitment, but they’re still being evaluated. I will keep you informed on who makes it past evaluation.”

“Good,” I said, finishing my tea and rising. “I will be leaving in about an hour. Make sure that nothing else happens while I am away.”

“Of course, Listener. Safe travels.”  

Preparations for tracking down the masked men that the High Queen had mentioned did not take me long and within forty minutes I was ready to leave. I picked up my staff from the table where I had left it, the wood a familiar weight in my hand. I noted some wear around the staff’s head; I would have to be careful how much magic I channeled through it.

I glanced around; I could not linger too much longer, once I found the men and disposed of them I could return home…

Nazir was still in the dining hall, papers scattered around him.

I smirked; it seemed I wasn’t the only one who suffered from exhaustion. Nazir was asleep. Calia was sitting across from him, occasionally poking the Redguard’s arm with a fingertip. Her staff sat nearby.

“Listener!” she greeted me, her brown eyes gleaming. The Breton rose, bowing. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I’ve been awake for a while,” I replied, gesturing for her to resume her seat. “How was your assignment?”

“Good,” she replied. “I was glad to return to High Rock even for a short time.”

“You have family there, yes?”

Calia nodded, “My mother and younger sister, Listener.” She paused, “And what of your family?” The Breton gestured to my hand where my wedding ring glimmered.

“They are well.”

“That is good,” Calia said, smiling. “You are leaving so soon?” She motioned towards my bag.

“There are other matters I must attend to,” I said. She nodded, understanding.

“Stay safe, Listener,” she murmured. “Walk always in the shadow of Sithis.”

“You as well,” I replied, taking my leave.

The trip to Dragon Bridge took nearly a day, with Shadowmere moving at her fastest pace. It was night when I arrived, the sun having just slipped under the horizon as I reached the small village. Thunder was rumbling overhead as I paid for Shadowmere’s keep and headed for the inn.

 Four Shields Tavern was slightly crowded, patrons huddled around the tables. The barkeep looked up as I approached. “Want a room for the night?” she asked. I had seen her before, years earlier when I had been tracking Gaius Maro to kill him.

Faida was her name I recalled, remembering how she had seemed close to Gaius. I shrugged off the thought and answered. “Yes.”

She nodded, “Ten gold for a night. And don’t go causing any trouble. We’ve had enough of that around here.”

“You’ve had trouble?” I asked, dropping the requested gold on the bar and sliding it over to her.

She nodded, palming the coin and sliding it into a pocket. “We had some strange masked men come through here a week or so ago. Roughed up some of the locals.” She shivered, “Didn’t like the looks of them.”

“What did they look like?” I queried.

“Why do you want to know?” she asked, leaning across the bar, her dark eyes were suspicious.

“So I know who to avoid when on the road,” I answered.

“You won’t run into them unless you’re heading southwest,” she said, wiping a tankard with a cloth. “They headed down towards Markarth.”

I nodded. “My thanks.”

She nodded and turned back to her task. “First room on the left from the door.”

I followed her instructions, locking the door behind me. I placed a ward at the door, preventing anyone from entering while I slept. One could never been too careful…

I sighed, slipping off my boots and sitting down on the bed. I hoped this business with the masked men the High Queen had mentioned wouldn’t take long. I lay back and closed my eyes. It wasn’t long before I fell fast asleep.

I left the inn at dawn, following the road southwest. It was possible that the men had already reached Markarth and left. I urged Shadowmere into a gallop. Hopefully, I would just run into the men. Unlikely, but it would make my job so much easier. I pressed on.

I was close to Karthwasten after a few hours of traveling. A feeling of unease made its way down my spine as my dragon soul stirred restlessly. I cast a glance over the surrounding landscape. The rocky hills and cliffs were empty of life, the sky grey and overcast. It was too silent.

Something was very wrong. Never in all my travels had the Reach ever been so still.

Shadowmere reared suddenly and I clutched at the reins. She snorted, stamping her feet. Before us, stood a group of four people, all robed in clothes I had never seen before, strange bone masks obscuring their faces.

What in Sithis’s name?

“You there, traveler!” one called. I raised an eyebrow.

“What?” I asked, Shadowmere moving nervously beneath me. I shifted my staff so the weapon rested across my saddle, ready for use.

There was a sudden shift in the air, almost like the calm before the strike of lightning in a storm. Then _something_ rushed past me, sending the dragon soul within me roaring with rage.

“Dragonborn!” one of the masked people declared, drawing a sword. They charged.

I dropped from the saddle, slinging a fireball towards the first person. Flames swallowed them and they dropped shrieking before falling silent.

Beside me, Shadowmere reared again, her hooves striking another in the head. There was a crack as their neck snapped. The last two attackers hesitated, but hurled themselves forwards.

One conjured a barrier, the blue dome curling around them. The other summoned a row of ice spears, throwing them. I rolled to avoid them, gathering lightning at my fingertips.

I unleashed it, the body of the mage dissolving into ash that drifted to the ground. The last attacker’s barrier flickered and vanished.

I grinned, drawing my dagger as I rose. “Faas Diin Nus!” They froze in place, held by the power of my Shout, trembling with fear.

I advanced. “Miraak will defeat you!” they shouted, terror coloring their voice. “The True Dragonborn will rule over all of Nirn!”

I paused. True Dragonborn? What did they mean? I held my dagger to their throat. “What are you talking about?”

“Miraak is the True Dragonborn, you are but an imposter, a fake!”

“And where might I find this Miraak?” I questioned, preparing to slide my blade across their throat.

“Solstheim,” they hissed, “but good luck finding him, you—!” I slit their throat before they could continue, neatly sidestepping the spray of blood.

I tossed the body carelessly to the edge of the road, dissolving the rest of the corpses with a wave of lightning. I swung lightly back up into the saddle, turning Shadowmere back towards Solitude.

I kneed her into a gallop, the landscape becoming a blur. I could figure this new dilemma later, after I had reported to the High Queen. I smiled grimly, Miraak had tried to kill me. I didn’t know who he was, but I would do my best to repay the favor.


	12. Ancient Remnants I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so I've been sitting on this chapter for a while and honestly I am tired of looking at it. So, here is chapter 12. And as always feedback is welcomed and greatly appreciated!

“So they are dead?”  

The High Queen was quiet for a moment and I could hear her fingers drumming on the arm of her chair. I kept my head bowed, still kneeling before her.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Did you find out why they were harassing our citizens?”

“They were looking for someone, Your Grace. The Dragonborn.”

There was a murmur of sound around me as the court whispered amongst themselves. The High Queen mused over the information for a long moment.

“Does the Dragonborn know of this?” she asked at last.

“He does, Your Grace,” I replied. “He has requested my help in investigating the issue.” It was technically true, I had intended to investigate further both as the Dragonborn and as Thane.

Another flurry of whispers ran through the room.

“Quiet, please,” Elisif called, and the room settled into a soft silence. “So you will be leaving court again?”

“If Your Grace allows,” I said, raising my eyes slightly. I could see her fingers tighten on her chair.

She gave a soft sigh, “How long do you believe this will take?”

“I cannot say, Your Grace,” I replied, “Weeks, months perhaps. No longer than two months at the most.”

She considered this. I was one of her most powerful backers, holding the position of her right hand, her enforcer. Without me, she would be significantly less protected. If she let me go, to chase down this lead…

“You will report to me all that occurs?” she said.

“Of course, Your Grace,” I said, fighting a smile.

“Rise,” she commanded. I complied, my eyes meeting hers. A light blush danced over her cheekbones. “I give you leave then, Thane. I expect regular reports.”

“As you wish,” I murmured, bowing.

“Travel safe,” she said. “I would hate to have to appoint a new Thane.”

I muffled a laugh. “I will be careful then, Your Grace.”

I turned and moved quickly down the stairs, the court resuming discussion behind me. Neria met me at the door, frowning. She held Daris in her arms, the child was fast asleep.

“You’re leaving again?” She fell in step beside me, her blonde braid swinging over her shoulders as she walked.

“I have to,” I said. She sighed.

“Where are you going now?”

“Solstheim,” I answered, walking towards the marketplace. My wife should still be at her stall, it was only mid-afternoon.

Neria raised an eyebrow. “What’s in Solstheim?” she asked.

“Someone who I need to meet,” I said. Which was true. I needed to meet them _and_ kill them.

Neria threw a hand up in exasperation, “That doesn’t tell me anything!”

I smiled, “Exactly.”

My wife was indeed at her stall, haggling with a young Nordic woman. The woman paid and left as we walked up. Nandil was sitting next to the stall, watching a line of dark beetles crawling over the stones with narrowed golden eyes.

“How was court?” my wife asked, stepping around her stall to embrace me.

“The usual,” I said, kissing her briefly. “I need to speak with you. Alone.”

She nodded. “Neria, can you watch the stall for me?”

Our daughter sighed, shifting her little brother in her arms. “Fine.”

Nandil scowled from his seat, saying, “I’m bored!”

Neria handed him an eleven puzzle sphere that he promptly started to toy with.

I led my wife away, back towards our house.

“What is it?” my wife asked, as we entered the small courtyard in back of the manor. I said nothing, but moved towards one of the benches that sat at the edge of the courtyard.

I cast a few spells, making sure that no one would be able to listen in or discern our conversation. This was to be private. I sat down and my wife copied me.

“Someone tried to kill the Dragonborn,” I said. My wife’s eyes widened.

“Are you hurt?” she cupped a hand to my jaw, looking me over.

“I’m fine,” I murmured.

“Will they try again?” she asked, glancing nervously around, as if assassins would spring over the walls any moment.

“I don’t know,” I replied, curling one hand around the one she pressed to my face. I took a breath, preparing to tell her what I was going to do, but she stopped me. She laid a finger over my lips.

“You’re going to make sure they don’t come back, aren’t you?”

I nodded. She removed her hands, settling them in her lap.

Her lips firmed in a hard line and she looked away from me. “How long will you be away?”

“Not more than two months at the most if I can help it.”

“Such a long time,” she frowned.

“I know.”

We sat in silence for a time, then she spoke again. “Do you know who it was?”

“Hmm?”   

“The person who ordered your death, do you know who it was?”

“I have a name,” I admitted, “It’s not much, but it is something.”

She sighed, “I hate it when you are away. Not knowing if you are safe, or if you are hurt…”

I smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know that,” she said as I drew back. “I just worry.”

It was then that I remembered the ring in my pocket and the crest of the R’an that lay upon it. I sighed softly; I needed to tell her sometime. It might as well be now.

“My dear,” I began, choosing each word with care.

“Hmm?” she said.

“Do you recognize the name Casil R’an?”

She mused for a moment, her eyes suddenly snapping to mine. “One of my grandfather’s brothers bore that name. Why do you ask?”

I took the ring from my pocket and held it out to her. It gleamed golden in the afternoon sunlight.

“What’s this?” she asked, taking the ring from me. She turned it over in her hands, the metal bright against her dark skin.

“W-where did you get this?” Her eyes were wide as she looked over the name inscribed inside the band.

“I fought an Ancient vampire while I was looking into the matter that the High Queen charged me with. He was wearing this.”

“He attacked you?” she questioned.

“Yes.”

She nodded, folding her fingers around the ring. “I heard rumors of one of my grandfather’s brothers becoming something dark and terrible. Grandfather never specified what exactly.”

 She settled against me, resting her head upon my shoulder. “Was his death quick?”

“As quick as I could make it,” I replied, recalling the sword made of lightning that had slain the Ancient. The glow of his eyes in the dim cave, the feeling of the Night Mother’s protection draped over me.

“May he rest in darkness then,” she murmured, kissing my jaw briefly.

I gave a short nod. “What do you want to do with the ring?”

She was quiet, her eyes distant. “Tradition dictates we bury it with the ashes of the deceased, but…” she trailed off for a moment before continuing, “Vampires are unholy and are not allowed a traditional burial. We let their ashes drift on the wind.”

“Perhaps it is best that his ashes are not retrieved then,” she said at last, sighing.

I nodded. “And what of the ring then?”

Her eyes were hard when they looked at me again. “Destroy it.” She held out the ring to me.

“As you wish,” I said, taking it from her. I turned it over in my hands. How would I destroy it? Fire perhaps?

I murmured a quiet word, concentrating fire magic on the ring. It shivered in my palms, but didn’t dissolve. I frowned, letting the spell die.

Could I use a Shout on it?

I cast a small spherical barrier, surrounding the ring. Dragon fire was extremely hot, I didn’t want my wife or myself to be burned.

“ _Yol_ ,” I whispered, directing fire to swirl within the barrier. The ring shimmered, metal warping and twisting before becoming molten slag. The black stone shivered and exploded. Shards ricocheted against the blue sphere’s sides. In minutes, the ring was gone, only a pool of molten metal and rock fragments remaining.

My wife gave a hum of approval. “Impressive.”

I eyed the remains, giving another soft murmur, “ _Vognun.”_ What little was left vanished from inside the barrier. I dissipated it.

“Dragon fire?” my wife queried.

“Yes,” I said, wrapping my arms around her.  

She was quiet for a long moment. “Come back to me,” she murmured.

“I will.”

“Swear it?”

I smiled, “By Azura’s Star, I swear it.”


	13. Ancient Remnants II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I am diverging severely from canon here. I am using some of the in-game dialogue but not all of it. It is way too much work to go through and transcribe all of that and I rather doubt any of you will want to read through that. Anyway, I am sorry for taking so long to update, my muse decided that it rather hated Solstheim and was giving me a good deal of trouble writing this chapter. As always comments and reviews are welcomed and appreciated! They really do help keep me going. Let me know if anything seems out of place with my writing of Frea; I'm not too sure on how she thinks and reacts so let me know if anything is off.   
> Now on with the story!

Solstheim’s grey shores came closer, barely visible in the dim light of Nirn’s moons. Odahviing’s wings beat a silent, steady rhythm through the cool air.

“Vul Iliis Roodam,” I murmured. The air shimmered around us, cloaking us from any who would turn their gaze to the sky.

The island soon stretched out beneath us, dark shapes moving over the landscape as we traveled over. There were great swathes of land that were covered in ash and it was in one of them that I directed Odahviin to land. Odahviing did so with barely a sound, small plumes of dust rising up from the ground from where his talons had clawed the earth.

I slid down from Odahviing’s neck, my boots making no noise on the ashy ground. “Be safe, Dovahkiin,” the red dragon rumbled quietly or as quiet as a dragon could be.

I rested a hand on the gleaming scales beneath one of his dark eyes. “Everyone says that,” I said. “Do you not trust in my skill, zeymah?”

Odahviing laughed. “You have more than proven your skill, Dovahkiin.” He paused, dark eyes flitting over the landscape before settling on me once more. “There is something odd about this place,” he said.

“Odd?” I asked, tightening my grip on my staff, looking around.

Odahviing gave a slight shake of his head. “There is something… _wuth_ …old, that I have not sensed in centuries…be very careful. There is something here that is ever watchful, ever waiting. It is…hungry…”

I mused over his words, a prickle of unease skittering down my spine. I drew a deep breath, forcing my nerves to settle. “I will be careful.”

Odahviing shifted, muscles bunching as he prepared to leap into the sky. “I will come if you call,” he reminded me.

“I will summon you if I need you,” I said, stepping back.

Odahviing nodded, “Farewell, zeymah. Until we meet again.” With that he pushed off the ground, his wings carrying him swiftly into the darkness of night. I saw him circle once before heading back in the direction we had come.

I summoned a floating orb of light. I could feel _something_ in the air. It was…a pull, a summoning of some kind. It was tugging me northwards. I followed it, my blood thrumming and singing in my veins, my dragon soul aching for something I knew not how to describe.

Great spires and arches rose up in the distance from the grey soil, reaching for the heavens. Moonlight gleamed off the strangely colored stone. I extinguished my light and walked on. I could see well enough without it now.

My staff gave a quiet clunk against something in the ash at my feet. I looked down. A skull, whitened by age and scoured by ash, grinned at me from its resting place. A dragon’s skull.

I dropped to one knee and traced the edge of the eye ridge with a hand. Who had killed this one? Given the age, it had to have been here since before Alduin’s rebirth, meaning that it had to be from the late Merethic age…

I glanced around, finding one dragon skull a few feet away, and another close by. As I looked, I could see more shapes of bones in the ground around me. It was a dragon graveyard.

The calling in my blood made me rise, returning to the task at hand. I could always come back to investigate later. I walked on.

The landscape was filled with dragon skeletons; everywhere I looked I could see wing bones, ribs and skulls folded into the ashy soil of Solstheim. Just how many had died here?

The sound of pickaxes and hammers came on the wind, sharp and clear. I frowned, that was odd…why would anyone be out and working at this time of night?

I followed the noise, walking past bones of ancient dov, up stone stairs that were coated in ash. Scaffolding curled around the spires of stone, and workers were chipping away at the green rock. They didn’t look up as I approached and I could hear the low murmur of chanting while they worked.

“…here in his shrine…that they have forgotten…here do we toil…”

I cautiously tapped one of the nearby worker’s shoulders. No reaction.

“Are you alright?” I asked. Still no reaction, only a murmur of “…by night we reclaim…what by day was stolen…”

I stepped away, examining what I could begin to see was some sort of temple or shrine.  A great stone stood below me at the heart of the structure and I headed toward it, feeling the pull even more strongly here.

I paused on the steps leading downwards, realizing then with a sudden horror, it was _compelling_ me! Anger surged in me, banishing the compulsion. I was _not_ someone’s toy! I refused to be made to do another’s bidding without my consent. _Never again._

I turned away from the stone, glancing around. A woman in armor that greatly resembled the traditional Nordic armor, was pleading with one of the workers. Blonde hair was swept back from her face, which was pale and weather worn. Two axes hung on her belt, one made of steel, the other of an almost ice-like material, gleaming as the moonlight reflected off it.

“Ysra, can you hear me?!” she called. The woman she spoke to didn’t even look at her, continuing to swing her pickaxe.

“I don’t think she can hear you,” I spoke up. She whirled, a hand going to one of the axes at her hip.

“Who are you? Why have you come to this place?” she asked warily.

“Someone looking for answers, as no doubt you might be,” I gestured past her, to the men and women chipping away at stone, chanting all the while.

The woman sighed, glancing at the workers. “I am here to either save my people or avenge them.”

“Oh?” I asked. “Are all of them your people?”

She shook her head, pointing out those who were of her people, “These five went missing from my village a month ago, and those two disappeared last week.”

“Your village?”

“Yes, we are of the Skaal, outlander, and I am Frea, daughter of our village’s shaman. And who might you be?”

“Aldariel Stormborn, I’m from Skyrim to the east.”

Frea nodded, “I have heard of Skyrim but never ventured there myself.”

“Are your people enthralled?” I asked, “I have never felt such a compulsion as this place has before.”

“And you feel it now?” Frea asked, her blue-grey eyes curious.

“A little,” I admitted, “once you realize what it is, it can be ignored.”

“This compulsion, it makes people forget themselves and work on these horrible creations that corrupt the Stones, the very land itself,” Frea said. “My father, Storn, says that Miraak has returned to Solstheim but that is impossible.”

“Miraak sent men to kill me,” I told her. “I would return the favor if I could.”

Frea nodded, “Then we both have reason to investigate the temple below.” She seemed to come to decision, her eyes hardening with resolve. “Come, my friends are beyond my help for now. Let us see if we can find a way into the temple.”

I nodded. “There’s a path over there,” I said, pointing with my staff. “Probably leads into the temple.” Frea nodded again, striding forwards towards the path. I followed.

“Tell me, outlander,” she said as we walked down the descending path, weapons ready. “Why did Miraak try to kill you?”

“I am Dovahkiin,” I said quietly, “though few save my wife and the Greybeards know this. Perhaps he saw me as a threat.”

“They say Miraak was Dragonborn as well, when he served the dragons long ago as a priest in their order. But he rebelled against them and his actions cost him much.”

“So he died?” I asked, wondering how a dead dragon priest could manipulate people to do his bidding now, hundreds of years later.

Frea shrugged her shoulders, “That is uncertain. He vanished. But I believe we will see soon enough what the truth is.”

The path wound around and down, so that stone walls rose high above us before we reached a large ornate stone door.

“All-Maker protect us,” Frea said quietly.

I silently asked for the Dread Father’s protection and reaching out, pushed open the door.  


	14. Ancient Remnants III

The halls of the temple were dark, lit by only a few torches scattered along the walls. The air smelled old and musty, as if it had not been disturbed for ages, though I knew this to be false.

“This place is evil,” Frea said, tightening her grip on her axes.

“Is it?” I asked, examining the carvings that lined the walls. I could read only a handful of words as time had obscured the rest. _Miraak, sonaak, keiz drun ok tumah._ Miraak, priest, rebellion brought his downfall…the rest of the lines were unreadable. “Or,” I said, turning my gaze to the Skaal woman, “does the man himself make it evil?”

She opened her mouth to reply then stilled, listening. The low murmur of voices came from ahead, growing louder as they came closer.

“Quickly,” Frea hissed, pointing at a nearby room, “In there.”

I slipped into the room, murmuring an invisibility spell as I did so. Frea blinked as I vanished from view, moving to hide against the wall.

The people passed, moving towards the entrance of the temple.

“How long does that last?” Frea queried after we could no longer hear voices. 

“Not long enough for us to get through the temple without killing a few people,” I answered, dropping the spell.

Frea’s face was grim. “We might have to kill a great many people,” she said solemnly. “Miraak had many followers once, he may have compelled others into his servitude.”

“And with no clear way to break his hold on their minds, we will have to kill them or be killed ourselves,” I inferred.

“Yes,” Frea replied, peering around the corner. “Let us continue, I sense that there is much more that we will uncover as we go.”

The temple was a maze of corridors and traps. We came across a few of the cultists, who were swiftly cut down as we moved onwards.

“How deep does the temple go?” Frea wondered aloud as we walked down yet another flight of stone steps.

“Who knows?” I said, stepping carefully over a trap that lay at the bottom of the stairs.

Frea murmured another prayer to the All-Maker when we came to a room in which several cages hung from the ceilings, swaying slightly as if being pushed by a breeze we could not feel. Inside each of them lay skeletons, darkened by age.

“I do not wish to imagine the kinds of things that happened in this chamber. Who were the poor souls trapped in these cages? What tortures did they suffer at Miraak’s hands? Was it in service to the dragons, or for his own purposes?” Frea said, her eyes fixed on the skeletons.

I winced at how one of the skeletons was wedged into a cage. That had to have been painful. I didn’t want to think of what they might have endured before their passage into the Void. We descended deeper into the temple.

“This is a tomb,” Frea murmured.

“What is it with Nords and tombs where the dead rise from their coffins?” I muttered under my breath, casting a hovering orb of light. There would most likely be undead here. There was _always_ undead… and then there was a low growl from the darkness ahead.

  1. I called flame to me and sent it spiraling forwards, towards a pair of unearthly glowing blue eyes. A shriek echoed in the darkness and the being stumbled towards us and fell, still twitching at our feet.



Frea made a noise of disgust. “Miraak has corrupted the very bodies of the ancient ones.”

I refrained from saying that it was more likely that the dead had agreed to guard the temple even in death, willingly. That might not go over well. A few more shambling undead and ancient dust-filled passages later and we found the inner sanctum.

“So,” I said, eyeing the three large draugr that guarded the ramps leading further into the temple. “I take the one on the left, you take the one in the middle and we hope the third decides to wait before attacking?”

Frea barked a laugh, and raced forwards, her axes raised high. I sighed. “Or we could just charge in, that works too.” I aimed a fireball at the nearest draugr, it roared with anger as the flames consumed it. One down, two to go.

Frea had managed to kill one of them and was working on backing the other into a corner. Her axes shone in the firelight as I made my way over to her. I threw an ice spear, being careful not to hit my ally in the process. It crunched into the draugr’s skull and the thing went still.

“My thanks,” Frea said, wiping her axes clean. “Shall we see what lies ahead?” She gestured towards a pair of large metal doors above the ramps.

“We shall,” I said, moving towards them.

A long passageway stretched out beyond the doors and we moved quickly through. I could feel the hum of a Word of Power somewhere ahead. We killed several more undead as we passed.

More stairs led deeper. I wondered idly if we were just going to be endlessly going down and down into this place of dust and bones. I shook off the thought; there had to be an exit somewhere, we just had to find it.

I stepped through a doorway at the base of the stairs and found a dragon skeleton hanging from the ceiling of the room. I moved further in, Frea following me.

“Now _that_ is impressive,” I murmured even as a howl of rage came from just across the room. A massive draugr stood there, blue eyes glowing and it raised its sword. Coffins began to fall open, their occupants stumbling out, clutching long-rusted weapons in bony hands.

“All-Maker protect me!” Frea cried, lunging forwards. I followed her lead, casting spears and fireballs, slaying the undead with ease. The largest of them took some time to kill but it wasn’t long before it joined its comrades in the Void.

I leaned on my staff, glancing around the room. Now that our enemies were slain, I could take some time to examine our surroundings properly. There were five open coffins on one side of the room and on the other sat a wall. The hum of the Word came from there. I walked towards it, feeling the power thrumming against my very soul. I pressed a hand to the stone, finding it cold. _Mul_. Strength. The Word settled into my soul, its meaning only partially understood for now.

I read over the engraved words, turning the phrases over in my mind. _“All praise glorious Miraak, most powerful servant of all. Dragon Priest, whose strength was granted by the gardener of men,”_ I murmured the words aloud, the draconic tongue rumbling through the air.

“What does it say?” Frea asked.

“It is about Miraak,” I said, “but who is this gardener of men?”

Frea frowned, “the term sounds familiar but I am afraid I cannot place it. Why do you ask?”

“It says here,” I brushed a hand over the relevant phrase, “that Miraak’s strength was granted to him by the gardener of men.” I puzzled over the words for a moment before turning away to look over the dragon skeleton.

It was held by metal chains clamped around its bones and it was poised as if to strike, head reared back, mouth gaping and wings flared out.

"I had heard Miraak has turned against the Dragon Cult, but to display the remains in such a manner as this... It is no wonder the dragons razed his temple to the ground. Seeing the remains hung up like trophies must have enraged them to no end,” Frea said, eyeing the skeleton.

How had they managed to get the bones down here? The passageway behind us was tiny; there was no way they could have moved the dragon’s skull through there…

Frea’s growl of frustration drew my attention away from the bones.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Unless there is some secret passage that we cannot see,” she said, “this is a dead end.” She motioned towards the wall that lay before us, where a coffin was embedded into the stones.

I examined the coffin. It was metal, Nordic carvings etched into the surface. I frowned, conjuring a light for a better look. “It’s a door,” I said, surprised. “There has to be a key somewhere. Look around.”

A few seconds later, “Found it!” Frea said, holding out a blackened key. I pushed it into the keyhole and with a shudder the door opened.

Another room and passageway led to a smaller circular room. I stepped carefully around the grated hole in the floor and found a stairway leading down. Frea paused by a statute, staring at it with an uneasy expression.

"I do not recognize this statuary. We passed a few of them earlier, but they are becoming more frequent as we get further in. I do not like this place. It almost looks as if these statues will come to life at any moment."

I eyed the statue. The light flickered off it, lending it an eerie gleam. I shivered. “Let’s keep moving.”

We traveled down a few more sets of stairs. Frea had been right, now every passageway had the statues. We passed through a set of doors and found ourselves in large chamber, not unlike an ancient burial hall.

Great braziers hung from grand stone arches, fire flickering from their depths. Stone steps led upwards. Growls echoed from all around us.

“Draugr!” Frea called, hefting her axes. A clatter of bones dragged my attention up. Skeletons were stumbling down the stairs, weapons raised.

“And skeletons,” I added, throwing a fireball at one. It fell apart and its comrades stepped over it. It took half an hour to kill all of them, though it felt like far longer.

“Whatever Miraak was hiding down here,” I said, casting a light healing spell over Frea, “he _really_ didn’t want anyone finding.”

“Then it must be important,” Frea said, shifting as the gash on her shoulder closed. “Thank you.”

“It is nothing,” I replied, “Let’s go find out what Miraak was hiding.”

There was a large rounded statue at the top of the stairs, covered in what looked like eyes. Stone claws stuck out from several areas of the statue.

“What _is_ that?” I asked.

Frea recoiled from the statue as if struck, her eyes wide with sudden realization. “It is Herma-Mora!”

“Herma-Mora?” I asked, “You mean Hermaeus Mora?”

“He has many names, but he is the enemy of the Skaal. Miraak must have made a deal with him…then…then Herma-Mora must be called the gardener of men, as you read from the wall!”

I considered it, walking around the statue. “There must be something here that will tell us the truth…”

I spotted a chain on the wall behind the statue and pulled it. A stone slab slid back and a passageway was revealed. It sloped sharply down, barely large enough for one person to fit through.

“Perhaps we might find something down here?” I suggested. Frea glanced at the statue once more and followed me.

We came to a circular room, lit by torches that burned with no smoke. Strange webbing lined the arches of the walls.

There was a large book on a pedestal in the middle of the room. The black binding gleamed oddly in the torchlight as if oil moved in swirling patterns over it. The air felt strangely heavy and I heard whispers, soft and menacing. I glanced over at Frea.

“Can you hear that?” I asked.

“Hear what?” she asked, frowning. “There is not but silence.”

“The whispers,” I said, eyeing the book. “It’s not you and it’s not me and everyone else in the temple is dead. So it has to be from the book.” I poked it with the edge of my staff.

The whispering grew louder for a moment then resumed at a lower register.

“It has great evil within it,” Frea said, “It feels wrong…somehow here, but not. It might be what we seek.” She stared a moment longer and then said, “I will not touch it.”

I sighed; I _really_ didn’t want to touch it, much less open it but I was apparently the only one who would do so.

I walked over to it, muttering another prayer to the Dread Father and His Bride, asking for protection from the thing.

The cover was warm, almost like it was alive. I opened it. It looked like a normal book, the words written in a clear hand but something was…off about it.

I read the first lines, speaking them aloud in Altmeri rather than the common tongue. I didn’t know if reading them in common would trigger something but better safe than sorry.

_“The eyes, once bleached by falling stars of utmost revelation, will forever see the faint insight drawn by the overwhelming question, as only the True Enquiry shapes the edge of though. The rest is vulgar fiction, attempts to impose order on the consensus mantlings of an uncaring godhood. First…”_

The page shivered under my fingers, the words twisting and blurring before my eyes. Darkness overwhelmed me for a moment and when I could see again, I was no longer in the temple.

I cursed. I stood now on a stone platform and I could see great towers of shadow in the distance. Strange markings covered the spiked arches that sat at the far edges of the platform. The sky was green, clouds swirling unnaturally above me.

Where the hell had I been transported?

Something thrummed through the air, forcing me to my knees. I struggled against it, attempting to rise. A voice called out to me, demanding and arrogant. A man stepped forward, dark green robes just brushing the stones, his face hidden by a tentacle mask.

“Who are you to dare set foot here?” he paused, recognition seeping into his voice. “Ahh, you are Dragonborn. I can feel it.”

“Then I suppose you are Miraak,” I growled, still fighting to reclaim my footing.

“I am,” he replied, “You are the Last Dragonborn, the one who slew Alduin.”

“And why did you try to kill me?” I asked, managing to pull myself to my feet at last.

“To lure you here, where killing you would be much easier. I am bound to Solstheim. And now,” his voice was smug, “You are here.”

“And where is here exactly?” I asked, wondering just how I was going to get out of the place without getting killed.

“Apocrypha,” Miraak said, “The realm of Hermaus Mora.”

“Fantastic,” I grumbled.

“You have slain many dragons, and even killed Alduin,” Miraak said, circling me. I turned with him, making sure he didn’t see my back. “But you have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can wield! Mul Qah Div!”

Spectral armor shimmered into being around him. I blinked in surprise, how had I never thought of that? I was _so_ going to learn to do that if I survived this.

“It is only a matter of time before Solstheim is mine. I already control the minds of its people. Soon they will finish rebuilding my temple, and I can return home.”

I spun my staff in my hands and threw fire at him. He dodged, unsheathing a sword that glowed an eerie green in the light of Apocrypha. He swung and I retreated, throwing a few more ice spears. He slashed all but one that sliced into his shoulder.

I grinned as red blood splattered the stone. Miraak cursed and with a wave of his hand summoned two creatures.

They were strange floating things, dark and tentacled with at least four withered arms that I could see. Some kind of green fabric draped over what appeared to be their shoulders. Glowing green-yellow eyes watched me with rapt attention.

A form of Daedra I had never seen before…

“Send him back where he came from,” Miraak said, turning away. “He can await my return with the rest of Tamriel.”

I snarled a spell, flame arcing out to whip around the arm of the First Dragonborn. The fabric caught fire and the acrid smell of burning flesh drifted on the air.

Miraak spun on his heel and his mask was the last thing I saw as a wave of magic hit me and everything went black.

“Stormborn! Stormborn! Are you alright?!” Frea’s voice pulled me from the darkness some time later. I found myself kneeling beside the pedestal, the book next to me, still open. I reached out a trembling hand and slammed it shut, not looking too closely at the words.

“What happened to you? You read the book then…It seemed as though you were not really here. I could see you, but also see through you,” Frea seemed unnerved.

“I went to Apocrypha, the realm of Hermaeus Mora,” I said shakily. “I saw Miraak.”

Frea’s lips twisted into a snarl. “Can we reach him? Can we kill him?! He must pay for what has been done to my people!”

I tapped the book with a forefinger. “I would not open that book again if I could help it. Nor am I willing to do so after having just been there.” I paused, drawing a deep breath to steady myself.

“If we are to break Miraak’s hold over Solstheim, we must find another way. Going back to Apocrypha now would be foolish,” I said.

Frea frowned, but nodded. “This,” she gestured towards the book, “is a dangerous thing.”

“No kidding,” I muttered under my breath.

“We should return to my village, and show this to my father. Perhaps he will be able to help us.”

I stared at her. “You want to take it _with_ us?”

“We cannot leave it here,” Frea said. “What if someone else takes it?”

“Then they’ll end up dead or worse,” I said, climbing to my feet. Frea glared.

“We might be able to find a way to free my people with this!” she hissed.

“Or become like them,” I said. “And that would be bad, especially for me. The world does not need two power-mad Dovahkiin.”

Frea crossed her arms, obviously ruminating on an idea. “…You are only taken to Apocrypha if you read it, yes?”

“I believe so…,” I said slowly.

“Then all we have to do is keep it closed and away from others. You need not read it until we are ready.”

I snorted. “I suppose I am the one who will be carrying it?”

Frea gave the slightest tilt of her head.

I glanced at the book again, noting that the whispers had ceased. Now true silence held sway.

I flicked my wrist, wrapping magic around the book. It rose slowly, hovering at chest level. I could feel the book’s own power fluttering against my own. I strengthened the spell; I didn’t want to feel the book’s influence any more than I had to.

“Let’s get out of this Void-forsaken temple,” I growled. Frea nodded.

“I saw another passageway over there.” She pointed towards a doorway to our left.

I moved towards it, levitating the book ahead of me. The passageway sloped steeply upwards. It took far less time to exit the temple than it had to make our way through it.

Another carved metal door sat at the end of the tunnel. I could feel a thin breeze. I gestured sharply and the doors swung open.

Snow was falling outside, the air cold and icy. I stepped out with a sigh of relief.   

“Come,” Frea said, “my village is just up the hill.” She pointed towards a well-worn path leading northeast.

I followed; hopefully I could find a way to stop Miraak’s return and possibly free the enslaved Skaal before the mind control eroded everything they had been. I sighed, suddenly tired. It was going to be a long while until I could return home…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so this is a really long chapter and I'm sorry it took so long to get posted. I've have some bad writers block lately. I'm diverging severely from canon so I have to work around what was originally written. Again, my apologies. That being said, reviews and critiques do help immensely. I always love hearing what you all think about the story so far and suggestions are welcome!


	15. Ancient Remnants IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so you know how I said I'd update quicker because I had an outline...yeah I lied. I have an outline, but I keep changing it and I was super busy and now that I am back in school and working almost everyday...Updates will be sporadic. I will finish this story, it might just take a while.  
> I appreciate all of you who've stuck with me. Thank you.

The village was small, only about seven or so houses. There was a barrier in place that lifted as we approached. Obviously a precaution to keep more of the Skaal from leaving to work on the temple. The spell resumed once we were inside, more frayed and worn than it had been before.

A circle of three people sat near the center of the village, heads bowed in concentration as they chanted. They had to be maintaining the barrier… “Father!” Frea cried as we neared. “I have returned. There is yet hope!”

“Frea, what news do you bring?” a weathered old man asked, lifting his head. “Is there a way to free our people?”

Frea shook her head. “No, but I found someone who may be able to help us.” She gestured to me.

The old man eyed me, frowning.

“He has confirmed that Miraak is indeed behind the suffering of our people,” Frea continued. “Outlander, this is my father, Storn.”

“Greetings, outlander,” Storn said, “I feared Miraak had something to do with our plight. There is much we still do not know…”

“What do you know of Hermaeus Mora and his connection to Miraak?” I asked, hefting the book still contained in my spell. “This was in a chamber at the base of Miraak’s temple. An artifact of Apocrypha.”

The man’s frown deepened. “So old Herma Mora is behind all of this…did you read the book?”

“I did,” I confirmed, “Through it, I reached Apocrypha and met Miraak. He is attempting to make a return to Solstheim.”

Storn’s eyes were pensive. “…If you could go to this place and see him…are you like Miraak? Are you Dragonborn?”

“I am.”

“The legends say that Miraak was the first Dragonborn. If this is true, then you have a connection through your shared dragon blood.”

“I don’t know if that is a good thing,” I said quietly.

“Indeed,” Frea’s father replied, “And our time here is running out.  The few of us left free of control cannot protect ourselves for much longer. The Stones have been corrupted and without them we are weaker, more susceptible to the call of Miraak.”

“And you want me to help?” I asked. I was unsure of how I could...I only knew how to break a compulsion on myself and training to resist such compulsions took _years._ I did not have time to teach others on how to strengthen their minds. Not when Miraak’s threat loomed over us. That and the compulsion felt…odd, like it wasn’t just a standard compulsion to work for Miraak, like it was something darker and older than any of us.

“The Stones my people hold sacred must be cleansed,” Storn said, crossing his arms. His dark eyes were resolute. “My people will then be freed and I may be able to help you.”

“May?” I asked, irritation lacing my voice. “Do you know for certain that cleansing these Stones will free them? Do you even have an idea of _how_ to cleanse them?” Purification magic was _not_ my specialty. I favored the ‘throw fire at it until it stops twitching’ method.

“I do. And only a hint of as to the resolution of the enslavement of my kin.” the shaman answered.

“Which _is_?” I asked.

“The power of a Dragonborn,” Storn said. I frowned.

“That is not helpful in the slightest,” I said.

“It is what we know,” Storn told me.

I suppressed a sigh of deepest annoyance. I had only been in Solstheim less than a day and _already_ people were being secretive and withholding information from me.

“If I do that, you will assist me in finding the information I need to defeat Miraak,” I replied. I had forgotten how annoying I found requests from people simply for my status as Dragonborn.

The old man thought for a moment then nodded. He raised an arm, gesturing toward the north. “There is a ruin to the north, three hours from here. It is known as Saering’s Watch. There is a strange wall there that has ancient markings that may be of interest to you.”

I nodded. “Very well.”

“But we must rest this night,” Frea said. “We have fought bravely and discovered much. You may rest in the meeting hall, outlander.” She turned and moved in the direction of the largest building in the village.

I followed, giving a nod to the shaman. He mirrored the motion and I moved away.

I sent two messages to Skyrim, via a summoned hawk. I infused it with enough magic to make sure it would reach its destination and then some. One letter to my wife assuring her I had made it safely and the other to the Queen giving my report. There wasn’t much, only that an investigation had begun into the attack on the Dragonborn and the reasoning behind it.

“Letters?” Frea asked as I returned my writing implements and parchment to my bag.

“Yes,” I replied. “I have family that worries when I leave.”

“Any children?”                         

“Yes,” I said, smiling. “One girl and two boys.”

“I have yet to find someone worthy of me,” Frea said, laying back on her bedroll. Her tone was wistful.

“You may find someone one day,” I said.

“Perhaps,” came her answer as I closed my eyes and fell asleep. 

It was midday when I reached the ruin. I was alone as Frea had decided to stay in the village to help protect what remained of her people. The book we had found, I had quietly and invisibly taken back to the Temple before I had left, sneaking in through the back entrance and locking it behind me on my way out.

No way in the Void was I carrying that _thing_ with me. Not when it had continued to test the strength of my barriers, getting more cunning with each attempt. It was almost as the damn thing was learning, which was an unnerving thought.

Snow crunched softly under my boots as I moved further up the mountain. I glanced around, taking note of what structures remained intact.

Crumbling stone walls were covered with snow and once high stone arches had fallen, their broken remains scattered now over the ground. I could feel a Word thrumming somewhere in the ruins. The growl of draugr greeted me along with the piercing cry of a dragon who took flight from the mountains.

Two draugr shambled towards me, banging rusted swords on shields. I burned them with flame. Another more powerfully built draugr appeared as I walked onwards, a horned helm resting upon their skull.

The dragon shrieked a challenge from the sky. I gathered lightning in my hands and threw it. The draugr stumbled but did not fall. The dragon called again, and I glanced up just in time to see fire racing down.

I cast a barrier and watched as the flames were reflected. The dragon shrieked again and the horned draugr fell under a column of fire.

I dissipated my barrier and roared my own challenge to the dovah who circled above.

“FUS RO DAH!”

It staggered in flight, the force of my Shout causing it to list heavily to one side. It landed unsteadily before me.

“DOVAHKIIN!” it howled. I noted the awkward way with which it held one wing. I must have broken it with my Shout.

I dodged another blast of fire. I rolled and summoned a row of ice spears that I hurled at the creature. They stuck in its side and it roared in pain as dark blood splattered the snow. Steam rose up from the red patches.

I managed to throw a few fireballs before having to dodge a swipe of the dragon’s tail. It screamed with rage, claws lashing out at me only to crack against my hastily raised barrier.

I dropped the barrier, summoning a sword and driving it through the dragon’s right eye. It shrieked as I pushed the blade deep, then shuddered and fell still. The absorption of its soul filled me with strength and I reveled in the power I felt.

I took a moment to banish my blade. Looking around, I found stairs leading up, barely visible beneath the snow. I climbed them, the thrum of the Word increasing as I walked.

An altar sat before the wall, a skeleton lying on it with a sword and shield at its side. The nearby wall hummed with power and I turned to read it.

“ _This stone commemorates Bhar, the Earth Hunter who sat here still, As Earth awaits enlightenment only to become old instead of wise,”_ I murmured, the draconic tongue rumbling through the still air. Gol, the dov word for earth stood out, its power settling into my soul.

I cast a barrier around myself and knelt, musing over the Word. Solid, grounded, a place of strength.

I considered the Word for a few more minutes, and then stood. If I was to truly meditate over the Words I had discovered, I need to find a better place. It was too cold up in the mountains.

I stood. The area where Odahviing had landed when we had arrived would do nicely. I rose and returned the way I had come.

I moved silently past the village, skirting the Temple. When I was far enough away that I couldn’t hear the noise of pickaxes on stone, I sat down, casting a barrier so nothing would get to me while I meditated.

It was warmer here, the ashy soil retaining some of the heat of Red Mountain even after so many years.

I closed my eyes, bringing the Words to the forefront of my mind. _Mul._ Strength. _Gol._ Earth.  

Strength was power, a shield, a force that could be used to protect or destroy… The Word hummed, power rushing through my veins as I unraveled the meaning.

I considered Earth for a few minutes. Grounding and solid, unyielding. Stability. The meaning hovered just out of reach.

I sighed. I didn’t have enough time to meditate for days on the stubborn Word and I had a feeling that this one would help with the Skaal’s problem. They wouldn’t have pointed me in the direction of the ruins otherwise.

I rose, banishing my barrier and took a moment to focus my will into the summons I needed.

“Durnehviir,” I called the name softly and the dragon appeared, summoned from the Soul Cairn. Dark yellow eyes watched me, his claws vanishing into the ashy soil as he flexed his talons. His green tattered wings folded neatly to his sides.

“You called?” he rumbled, the webbing that covered nearly all of his scales stirring in a breeze.

“Yes,” I said, standing tall and proud, every inch of the Qahnaarin, the Vanquisher who had won his allegiance years ago.

“Then you have need of me.”

“Yes. Tell me,” I said, beginning to pace. “What do you know of Miraak?”

“Miraak…” Durnehviir hummed, “Yes, I know that name. A young Dragon Priest, he gained great power and rebelled against the dov. He vanished sometime before I was tricked and imprisoned by the Ideal Masters.”

“He is in Apocrypha, serving Hermaeus Mora,” I said, “He has forced part of the population under a compulsion to rebuild his temple. I have been asked by a Skaal shaman to help to free the people from his village that have been…enslaved by Miraak.”

“If it is a compulsion, surely you can break such a thing on your own, Qahnaarin. You have little need of me.”

“It is like no spell, if it is truly that, that I have ever felt or even read of,” I said, pausing my pacing to look him in the eye.

“Hmmm,” the ancient dov mused, settling onto the ground with a hum. The tip of his tail was buried under the soil in seconds, though I could still see the movement as it twitched while Durnehviir thought.

“Is there a Shout to bend someone’s mind to the user’s? To make them as a slave to do their bidding?” I asked.

He was quiet for a few minutes. I waited patiently. Durnehviir knew much; he was no doubt combing the vast amount of knowledge he had gathered over the years for what I sought.

“There is,” he said at last. “There was such a Shout that was used. I believe one of the younger dragons of the time helped create it. Shaping Voice into will. It…made the building of our temples by the joor, the mortals…easier if they did not question us.”

He sounded very old then and slightly ashamed. For what reason exactly, I was unsure.

I stepped forwards, pressing a hand to the top of his snout. His scales were warm beneath my palm.

“Do you remember the Words?” I asked gently.

“I may be old, Qahnaarin, but I do remember them,” Durnehviir said, settling his head on his claws, nose almost touching the soil.

I smiled and sat down beside him, mindful of where his claws were. 

“Earth, Mind, and Dragon, in the common tongue,” he said. “ _Gol_ , _Hah_ , and _Dov_. Their usage is as follows. _Gol_ may be used to break a compulsion, which is what you were seeking. Together with _Hah_ they can control the mind of a person for a time. And with all three one can bend the very will of Dovah.”

“Could a Dov bend the will of another Dov?” I asked.

“If their will was strong enough, yes.”

 I gave a quiet hum of contemplation. “I have another request, Durnehviir.”

I needed some way to further protect myself from Miraak’s will. I shivered, remembering the feeling of overwhelming power pushing me to kneel under the skies of Apocrypha. I was _no one’s_ servant.

“What is it?” Durnehviir asked, tilting his head. I could see a patch of skin where his scales had sloughed off. The flesh beneath was grey and dark.

“How might one use the Voice to shield themselves?”

“Shield? We dov have wings and claws to attack with and thick hides, we have little need to use the Voice to shield ourselves.”

“I am a mortal with a dovah soul. I am not so protected as the dov. There must be _something_ , some Shout that was used,” I said, staring him down. “Miraak used some kind of armor in Apocrypha but I cannot remember the Words he used…”

Durnehviir sighed. “There was one that I can remember. Mul Qah Diiv. Strength, armor, wyrm. Dragon Priests might use it in battle to enhance their abilities, to take on the strength and power of a dragon.”

I remembered then, the words Miraak had spoken in Apocrypha, the words suddenly sharp and clear whereas before they had been muddled and hazy. “Miraak used that,” I said, recalling the ethereal armor, the power that he had wrapped around him.

Durnehviir nodded his great head, the soil shifting under his claws.

I rose, moving a few paces away. I wanted to see if I could replicate Miraak’s Shout. I closed my eyes, visualizing armor and the power and strength of the dragons.

I opened my eyes and Shouted.

“Mul Qah Diiv!”

Power flooded my veins, almost overwhelming me. Ethereal armor appeared, gauntlets forming around my arms, a dragon-scale cuirass materializing as a helm settled on my head.

“Qahnaarin indeed,” Durnehviir said, rising from his place in the ashy soil. He bowed his head.

I closed my eyes again; such dizzying power contained in a Shout. No wonder Miraak was so strong, with this much power within him, not to mention thousands of years of experience. Technically, I was a child compared to him, a mere two hundred and thirty-six to his probable four thousand.

I willed the Shout to dissipate.

“That is the true power of a Dovah,” Durnehviir said, his steps causing the ground to tremor faintly as he walked towards me.

“And yet, Miraak managed to rise against such power and inspire rebellion?” I said, looking over.

“Indeed. If he had the help of a Daedra as you say he did, then he is an opponent to be wary of.”

“I know,” I said, grimacing.

Durnehviir nudged my arm with his head. “I have faith that you will succeed in your task, Qahnaarin.”

I smiled, resting one hand on his snout again.

“Thank you for your help Durnehviir,” I said.

“It was nothing Qahnaarin,” he replied, stretching his wings wide. “I would like to soar through the skies before I must return to the Cairn…if we are finished here.”

I nodded and stepped back. His wings flapped once, twice and he was airborne, circling through the now darkening skies.    

I turned and headed back towards the Skaal village. I had a shaman to talk to.


	16. Ancient Remnants V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, I know this is super late and everything, but this isn't even everything I wanted in the chapter. But I was tired of looking at it and thought hey, let's just throw it out there.
> 
> Anyway, happy holidays, safe travels and whatnot! XD
> 
> Enjoy!

“And these are all of the Stones?” I asked, noting down the six marks on the map that Storn had pointed out. The Stones were apparently crystalline rock formations that held elemental energies that harmonized with the land itself.

“Yes,” Storn confirmed. “The Tree Stone remains at the heart of the temple that was Miraak’s.”

“I would not attempt cleansing that Stone until Miraak’s influence is weakened,” I said.

Storn nodded. “A wise decision.”

“I was thinking of starting with the Wind Stone first and then move down and around the edge of Solstheim.”

I traced my intended path over the map.

Storn tapped the Wind Stone’s marker with a weathered forefinger. “The Wind Stone lies across the bridge, near the edge of Miraak’s temple.”

I stood, folding the map away and returning it to my satchel. “Let’s hope that this works,” I murmured lowly.

The Wind Stone glowed an eerie green in the dim starlight. Secunda and Masser had not yet risen into the night sky.

Workers darted across the snow-covered ground, black shapes against a white background. And from where I stood at the crest of the hill, half-hidden in shadow, I could _feel_ the call of Apocrypha.

I took a breath, forced my nerves to calm and strode down the hill. The workers did not look up as I approached.

“ _Mul Qah Diiv!”_ I hissed. Power flooded my veins, my dragon soul exulting in the raw energy.

“ _Gol!”_ I roared and the force of the Shout made the air tremble. The Stone glowed brightly, a brilliant eerie green. I pushed against the compulsion, straining to break the will of something far more powerful than myself.

There was a great thud behind me and a draconic snout nudged my shoulder. “Let me help you, Dovahkiin.”

_Durnehviir._

“GOL!” we Shouted together. The compulsion shuddered, crumbling beneath the force of our Shout. With a great crack, it finally broke and every person who had been working around the Stone dropped to their knees.

The small pool of water that the Stone sat in began to bubble ominously.

“Oh for Sithis’s sake,” I growled.

The water exploded upwards, drenching everyone within a five-foot radius as a plant-like Daedra emerged, howling its rage to the dark night sky.

I grumbled curses and promptly incinerated the thing, being careful not to hit any of the people nearby with my spell. Durnehviir skirted around me and slashed at the burning creature with his claws. It fell silent and crumbled swiftly and unnaturally to ash.

Durnehviir turned to me, dark eyes appraising.

“I am surprised you still remain on Nirn,” I said. “But your assistance was most welcome.”

“I am glad to be of help, Qahnaarin,” Durnehviir said, baring sharp teeth in a draconic smile.

“How long until you must return?” I asked.

“Not long now,” the dragon said, yawning. Purple flames were beginning to curl up his legs. The Soul Cairn was calling him to return.

“Thank you, Durnehviir,” I said, laying one hand on his shoulder briefly. The ethereal flames had almost consumed the entirety of his hindquarters.

“It is my honor to serve, Qahnaarin,” he said and vanished.

I returned my gaze back to the formerly-enslaved workers who were struggling to their feet. All them appeared to be from the Skaal village. I walked closer. One man made it to his feet and saw me.

“Thank you, stranger!” he said, a joyful smile on his weathered face.

“Stormborn!” Frea’s voice came from behind me. “You did it! You freed them!”

I turned. “You doubted me?” I asked.

Frea smiled wryly. “I must admit that I did.”

I laughed. “I doubted as well but your people are free and Mora’s influence is dampened. The next Stones should not be so hard to disrupt.”

Frea darted forward, clasping my arm in a tight grip. “ _Thank you,_ ” she said, before releasing me and moving to greet her freed comrades.

I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth against the feeling of my skin crawling. I hated people touching me without my permission.

I drew in a deep breath.

“Nelvulonah,” I murmured the name, low and quiet, infusing it with power to bring the dragon to my side.

There was a screech far overhead, and a small shape buried itself in the snow. Silver eyes glittered in a dark head.

“You should speak louder, thuri, so that we can hear you truly,” she said.

“If I spoke louder, _kiir do vul_ ,” I said, ignoring her usage of the term _thuri_. I disliked that word. I was no one’s overlord and master. Although most dragons still used the term despite my protests.

“If I spoke as loud as you wished me to,” I continued, kneeling beside her, “I would deafen those around me.”

The tiny dragon bared glinting teeth at me, snapping her jaws. “Then deafen them, thuri! If they cannot stand to listen, then they are weak, to be crushed beneath our claws!” her talons unsheathed, slicing through the snow.

“Peace, Nelvulonah,” I said, resting my left hand on her smooth midnight black scales. Her horns were longer now, grown into sharp spirals from the short stubs they had been when I had first met her.

“I want you to scout for me,” I said, switching to the Dovah tongue. Nelvulonah twitched under my hand before becoming still.

“What is your command, thuri?” she purred.

“Scout south, to the edge of the island then along the western coast and to the north. There should be four structures similar to the one here.” I gestured to the cleansed Stone. “Tell me how many people are there when you return. And no killing anyone.”

“Will these structures be open to the sky?” she asked.

“Most likely, yes,” I replied. Her silver eyes held a malicious gleam. “ _No_ killing, remember?” I said.

She grumbled. “As you wish, thuri.”

The dragon stretched her wings, digging her claws into the ground as she tensed and then leapt into the sky.

I watched her go, rising to my feet. “Fair winds and clear Voice,” I murmured, the ancient blessing coming easily to my lips.

I turned back to Frea, who had gathered the rest of the Skaal around her. “We’ll be heading back to the village,” the Nord woman said. “Will you be joining us?”

“Not for long,” I said. “I will be leaving in the morning for the next Stones.”

Frea nodded. “Very well. Come then, we will celebrate our freedom this night.”

True to my word, I did not stay long at the festivities, excusing myself soon after the celebratory drinking had begun.

I dreamt of dragon-fire, bright and consuming. Screams of terror still rang in my ears when I woke at dawn, the taste of ash and blood lingering in my mouth.

I packed swiftly and rose, moving silently out to the middle of the village. There was one more thing I needed to do before I left.

I had given my name and I wanted to be sure that no one would be able to speak it in connection with the Dovahkiin. Not to mention people had seen my face.

I concentrated, drawing a little magic to me and molding it into what I needed. A mild memory disrupter. No one but Frea and her father would be able to recognize me as Dovahkiin. All others would see me as someone who had helped the village, a supporter rather than a savior. My name would be known, yes, but not in any way connected to the Dovahkiin.

I cast my spell, feeling it settle into the village like water into dry earth. I left the village as the sun began to rise.  

A black shape drifted down from the sky, banking and making a sharp turn before coming to hover beside me. Nelvulonah had returned.

“Thuri,” she murmured. “I have done as you asked.”

“No deaths?”

“None,” she answered, flaring her nostrils with an irritated sigh.

“Good. Report.”

“At the structure south of here, there are ten mortals, at the one south of that, twelve, at the one to the west near the elf village, seven and at the one north of that one, there are ten.”

I nodded. “All right. We’ll free the next two Stones then turn and make our way west.”

Nelvulonah tossed her head. “And if the mortals attack once they are freed?”

“Then we kill them,” I said shortly.

“Good.”

The second Stone was easier, the compulsion disrupted far more easily than the first one had been.

Two bandits attacked as soon as the plant Daedra that had leapt from the water around the Stone had been killed.

Nelvulonah bit the head off one man and I set the other on fire. The rest ran after that.

My dragon companion spat the head out, shaking her head. “Bleh, humans have too much hair.” She stuck her tongue out.

I laughed. “Maybe you should just stick to gnawing off limbs instead?”

“Or set them on fire…” Nelvulonah mused.

“That works too,” I said as we began moving again.

The winds picked up speed as we traveled and begun to cut into my skin even through the thick clothes I wore. I muttered a curse, casting a barrier around myself and Nelvulonah, forcing our way forwards.

The tiny dragon curled around my shoulders, her weight lessened greatly by the feather-light spell I had cast on her. She couldn’t stay airborne for lengthy amounts of time and we had been traveling for most of the day now.

The winds were howling, soil shifting beneath my feet

An ash storm. I could see the wall of brown coming closer. Only a half day’s journey on foot from the third Stone and _this_ happened. I glanced around, trying to find some form of shelter. I didn’t know how long this storm would last and I couldn’t keep a barrier up that long.

 “Thuri!” Nelvulonah shouted, her voice hard to hear over the wail of the approaching storm. “There’s something over there!”

I spotted a tunnel leading down, a metal door just visible at the end. I ran for it, ducking out of the storm and within minutes we were through the door.

It closed behind us with a clank and there was silence. We were in complete darkness. I summoned a light. We were in a long tunnel. Nelvulonah slipped from my shoulders, sniffing at the air.

“This is a tomb, thuri,” she announced. “I can smell the death.”

“A tomb, _fantastic_ ,” I hissed. I could feel the thrum of _three_ Words somewhere below. “Do you feel that?” I asked.

“Ancient power resting below our talons?” Nelvulonah asked, looking up at me. “Yes, thuri. Are we going to investigate?”

“Of course,” I said. “That ash storm could last for hours and we might learn something useful.”

Nevulonah hummed. “Hopefully we get to kill things.”

“You are a rather murderous little hatchling aren’t you?” I said, walking down the sloping tunnel. My feet brushed against crumbling stone as we descended.

Nelvulonah followed, grumbling. “I am _not_ a hatchling. Your hatchlings are hatchlings.”

“My children aren’t dangerous creatures that enslaved people for hundreds of years and everyone on Nirn thought were extinct centuries ago,” I replied.

She huffed in annoyance but remained silent.

The tunnel led downward and onto a stone platform with a pedestal. There was draconic writing etched into the surface.

“ _A sacrifice will bring you closer to what you seek,”_ I read aloud. Nelvulonah reared back on her hind legs, front claws clunking against the pedestal. She peered at the lettering.

“Does that mean we have to kill something?” she asked. I cast three more lights in an attempt to see more.

I stared as the chamber became illuminated. Stairs sloped down to another platform where a large metal grate lay in the middle. Oddly enough, there were a few dead draugr lying around. Four that I could see at least.

“Maybe something already did,” I said slowly, readying a fireball in case anything decided to leap out at us. Two walkways led to tunnels on either side of the platform, though both were currently closed off by rusted metal gates. And beyond the central platform, past another platform surrounded by a cage, was empty space, though I could see a doorway at the far end of the chamber.

“Thuri, this is a tomb, the only thing here is dead,” my companion scoffed. “What else could be here?”

“Draugr, dragon priests, possibly daedra, given Hermaeus Mora’s influence over the island, maybe an undead netch…,” I trailed off, looking over at her.

Nelvulonah was unamused. “Very funny, thuri,” she grumbled, dropping down to land on all fours once more.

I descended the steps. Peering over the edge of the grate, I could see the remains of what had once been a fire-pit.

Nelvulonah bumped her head on my right boot, leaning over to look down. One claw pressed down on the grate.

A creaking noise was the only warning we had before the metal collapsed and fell in on itself. Nelvulonah let out a cry of alarm, almost tumbling over into the pit. I caught her with a levitation spell and pulled her back, her weight causing me to fall to the ground beside the now ruined grate. My fireball spell dissolved in a rush of magic, undone by my levitation casting.

The sounds of the collapse echoed and re-echoed in the tomb.

It was only when it faded to silence once more that I dared to speak. “Well, if something is here, it now knows where we are.”

Nelvulonah muttered something, pressing her full weight on my chest. I set her on the ground; my feather-light spell must have worn off. 

She glanced away, eyes downcast.

“Sorry.”

“It would have found out anyway I think,” I said, standing.

A growl came from the tunnel on the left as the gate lifted. Draugr. A decaying Nordic corpse stood there, and banged its rusted sword against its tarnished shield.

A rallying call. More draugr would come to investigate.

“Great,” I muttered, tightening my grip on my staff.

Enemies shuffled from both tunnels and I swung my staff, flames roaring out to dissolve the ancient dead. Nelvulonah shrieked a challenge and dove into their ranks, her claws and teeth ripping draugr’s limbs and bodies. I followed her, summoning a spectral sword as I went.

By the end of the fight nearly forty draugr lay scattered around us, twenty of which had toppled into the pit that Nelvulonah had almost fallen into.

“Think that’s good enough of a sacrifice?” Nelvulonah asked.

“Probably,” I said, eyeing the spiked pit. There was a sudden clank, and Nelvulonah nudged what looked like a half claw formed of crystal towards me.

I knelt, carefully lifting it up. It was made to look like half of a dragon’s claw. I had seen such things before, keys to ancient ruins. But this was only half…

“Did you see another half?” I asked.

Nelvulonah shook her head. “No, thuri. I did not.”

“Hmm.” I cast another spell, searching for anymore undead that might be lurking. I could sense at least twenty undead far ahead of us, hidden behind rock and water but nothing close by.

The two tunnels remained open to us now, unsealed by their former occupants. I could still feel the ancient Words calling, whispering to me.

“Come on,” I said, heading towards the left passage. “Perhaps we’ll find the other half somewhere in these tunnels.”

The second half of the claw was, as it turned out, in the right tunnel.

“ _Mid Vur,”_ Nelvulonah said as we walked back into the main chamber, carrying both halves of the claw. “Loyal Valor in the mortal tongue.”

“Yes,” I said, the ancient Words thrumming in my soul, warm and invigorating. “And there is one more Word to be found and somewhere to place the claw.”

Nelvulonah paced around the platform, silver eyes gleaming. I followed, searching for any indication of a place where the claw could fit. It had to go somewhere in this dusty tomb…

“There!” Both of us said at the same time. On the edge of the caged platform sat two stone statues bearing marks where half of a claw might fit.

I eased the claws in, the cage door swinging open as I did so.

Another pedestal lay before us, etched with draconic lettering. “ _Stay your course, to idle is to die,”_ I murmured.

“That doesn’t bode well, thuri,” Nelvulonah said.

“No, it does not,” I replied. There was a lever beneath the words. I pulled it and another set of doors swung open, a glowing blue tile appearing at the edge of the platform.

I carefully stepped out and as my boots came into contact with the tile, another appeared beside it, more stretching out over the chasm.

To idle is to die…the meaning stuck me like a thunderbolt.

“Nelvulonah, fly across!” I ordered. She complied, launching herself into the air. I ran. I could feel the magic within the tiles fraying even as I moved. I had just reached the middle of the chasm when the first tile broke, a sound like shattering glass that echoed.

“Dread Father take you!” I hissed, cursing the ancient Nords and their traps. “ _Wuld Nah Kest!”_

The force of my Shout carried me to the edge of the glowing tiles and I gratefully sank down on hard stone.

Behind me, the tiles shattered to pieces and silence fell once more. Nelvulonah landed beside me.

“Are you well, thuri?”

“I’m fine,” I said, turning to glare at the chasm. The tiles had begun to reform, a straight line of blue magic that crossed the void.

“That was close,” my dragon companion noted.

“Agreed,” I said, standing. “Let’s see what else lies ahead.”

Four more tile bridges and a horde of draugr later and we found ourselves in a long stone hall. At the end, I could see a puzzle door, the carvings glowing with a faint golden magic. And behind it, the Word beckoned.

“Thuri…” Nelvulonah said softly, her claws scraping the stone floor. “I have a bad feeling about this…”

“What? Afraid of facing a horde of draugr?” I teased, studying the etchings in the walls.

“There is something…terrible behind that door,” she said. “Can you not feel it?”

I paused, frowning as I focused on the door, extending my magic outward in an attempt to understand what she felt.

I felt something…cold, and yet at the same time warm, as if there was some unnatural form of a creature that should by all accounts be dead and buried and still somehow…lived.

“What is it?” I asked, withdrawing my magic. “Have you ever felt such a thing before?”

Nelvulonah shook her head.

“I was born long after the mortals had begun to wage their war against my people, anything here is before that time. Ancient, even by Dovah standards.”

“That’s…not good,” I said. “We could still go back, you know.”

Nelvulonah sat down, curling her tail around her. “I am not frightened, thuri,” she said, sticking her nose in the air. But I could see how her wings, winched tightly to her back, trembled as she spoke.

She was afraid. And anything that a dragon was afraid of, was something to be immensely wary of. Running in the opposite direction was a valid option.

“Are you sure?” I asked, kneeling beside her.

“Yes. Where you go, I go. I am Dovah, we fear nothing!”

I laughed softly. Such bravado in the face of uncertainty.

“Come then,” I said, “let us face this together.”

I glanced at the door. Three panels glowed brighter than the rest, more laden with magic. Those had to be the correct ones.

I cast my spell, pushing the panels into place. With a thunk, the door slid backwards and to the side.

We advanced.

The chamber was large, a well of murky water stretching through the middle. At one edge sat a coffin and behind that was a wall. The Word thrummed from there.

The air was strangely cold. I could see my breath as I exhaled. The sense of wrongness, of something unnatural residing within the chamber had grown, and it seemed to watch us, waiting.

A shriek echoed suddenly through the chamber and the coffin at the far end burst open. I swore loudly as a figure arose from its resting place.

A Dragon Priest.

Nelvulonah roared, baring sharp fangs.

The Priest screamed in response and hurled a massive fireball at us. I threw a reinforced barrier up just in time. It cracked almost instantly, spider-web fractures spreading faster than I could repair them.

“ _Jaariliik Vund!”_ Nelvulonah cried, her Shout reinforcing my barrier and sending the fireball back to its caster.

The Priest merely waved a skeletal hand, dissipating its spell.

“ _Iiz Slen Nus!”_ I yelled and ice raced out to curl around the Priest’s form. It growled, twisting its head as it tried to free itself.

“ _Yol Toor Shul!”_ an unearthly voice growled. I dodged the wave of flame and countered with my own Shout.

“ _Ven Gar Nos!”_ A whirlwind slammed into the trapped creature.

“ _Yol Toor Shul!”_ Nelvulonah Shouted, her fire breath combining with my whirlwind to form a deadly column of swirling fire.

The Priest shrieked again. “ _Fus Ro Dah! Sah Bah Nos!”_ The Shout sent me flying, colliding with the wall. Sharp, hot pain burst in my chest. I gasped, dropping to my knees, trying to force air back into my lungs.

“Son of a-“ I rasped and blood splattered the stone beneath me.

“ _Krii Lun Aus!”_ Nelvulonah screamed. “Don’t you touch thuri, you undead piece of crap! Why don’t you just go and drown in your bloody pool!”

I would have laughed at the sight of a tiny black dragon yelling insults at an undead Dragon Priest, if I hadn’t been coughing blood and we hadn’t been in mortal danger. I staggered to my feet.

“ _Mul Qah Diiv,”_ I growled. Strength surged in my veins, a rush of power that would have to be enough to kill the Priest; I didn’t know what I would do if we couldn’t kill it…

Nelvulonah had managed to successfully draw the Priest’s attention away from me, retreating back along the far wall. I followed, moving as fast as my injuries would allow.

“ _Iiz Slen Nus!”_ I yelled, freezing the Priest in place.

I ran closer and summoned a sword, slashing down just as the Priest managed to break free.

It stopped, my blade embedded deep in its skull. “ _Strun Kest Fus,”_ I hissed. The body shivered and crumpled to dust.

I collapsed then. “THURI!” Nelvulonah cried, at my side in an instant.

I coughed, blood spilling from my mouth.

“ _Vahraan laas su’um!”_ Nelvulonah Shouted. I coughed again at the sudden overwhelming _pain_ and then there was none at all.

I spat the last of the blood from my mouth and shakily sat up. I drew in a few deep breaths.

“Thank Sithis for you, Nelvulonah,” I said.

“I thought you prayed to that sun god of yours?” she questioned, sitting back on her haunches, relief clear in her serpentine face.

“Keep that between us,” I said wearily. “Undead piece of crap? You couldn’t think of a better insult?”

“I was trying to get it away from you!” she growled. “Excuse me for saving your life!”

I laughed softly. “My thanks, Nelvulonah.” I tapped her head lightly. “Truly.”

She glanced down and away, embarrassed. “It was nothing, thuri.”

“We should take a look at that Word,” I said, rising slowly to my feet.

_Shaan._ Inspire.

I sat with my back to the wall, mulling the words over in my mind. Loyalty, Valor, Inspire.

To inspire loyalty within one’s comrades, to fight with valor…the Shout’s meaning was quickly unraveled.

“These walls look strange,” Nelvulonah said suddenly from her place by the eastern wall. The stone was faded and crumbling, lettering obscured by the passage of time.

“Strange how?” I asked, closing my eyes and leaning back against the wall.

“Like…misted or something…I don’t know how to describe it. I can read a few of these…thuri, they’re names!”

“Names?” I asked. “Dragon names?”

“ _True_ names!” Nelvulonah hissed.

All names had power, and dragon’s names had far more than the true name of a person. But a person’s true name was often difficult for them to figure out, something that one had to discover themselves and usually through long meditation and contemplation. If someone knew your name, they knew the core of your soul, your being. And they could use it against you.

I myself only knew a fraction of my true name, a name that was draconic in nature. _Vokun._ Shadow.

I rose, walking to where my companion sat. I knelt beside her, tracing the almost invisible, faded writing in draconic.

One line of text stood out to me, surprisingly clear as if it had only been chiseled into the stone a day ago.

“ _Paarsovenmindah, youngest of the Dragon Priests…”_ I read aloud. _Ambition Secret Knowledge._ The name still thrummed with power even now, thousands of years since the age of when Dragons has held dominion over all.

“Dragon Priests? Where do you see that?” Nelvulonah questioned. “Why would their names be here?”

There was the soft scuff of boots on stone and I whirled, raising my staff, flame already gathering in my palm.

“Because,” Miraak answered, arms crossed over his chest, sword at his side. “Our overlords sought to control us, to bind us to their will and theirs alone. Now tell me, child of storms, why are you here?”


	17. Ancient Remnants VI

I stood, neither releasing my spell, nor lowering my staff.

“Curiosity,” I answered at last.

Miraak gave a soft huff. “Oh? Investigating ruined tombs in hopes of finding something to defeat me?” He laughed, a sharp noise that echoed through the small chamber.

“Maybe,” I said.  

Miraak was quiet for a moment, then walked closer. I stepped back, wary of his intentions. Nelvulonah growled lowly as she treaded after, matching her steps with mine.

The First Dragonborn pressed a gloved hand to the wall, tracing the letters of the name I had spoken aloud earlier.

“Why are  _ you _ here?” I asked.

“You summoned me using my true name, my dragon call,” he said, glancing over. His eyes were rust-colored and serpentine through the slits of his mask. “Jun do Enook Dovah!” he spat the words at me.  “For none but the ruler of Dovah speak the true names here!”

I flinched.  _ I was no king. _

“Do you wish to command me? Bend my will to  _ yours? _ Make me a slave to yet another master?!”

“No,” I said softly. I had no desire to steal someone’s will from them, no right to take away their freedom.  _ As mine had once been. _ “But if it would stop you from trying to take over the world, I would.”

He laughed again. “Oh? Ambitious elf, aren’t you? Do you honestly think you can match me? Diist Dovahkiin? The First of the Dragonborn? _Sahrot_ _Jun_?!”

I suppressed another flinch and I could almost see the amusement in his slit-like eyes.

Nelvulonah growled again, baring fangs. “Can you match a dov who has slain the Firstborn of Akatosh,  _ Diist _ ?” she hissed.

“I could have defeated Alduin with ease,” Miraak told her. “But no matter, your King slew him and saved me much trouble.”

“I am no one’s King!” I snarled.

Miraak’s eyes glittered. “No,” he said, his voice almost gentle, “You are an unknowing pawn on the Dovah throne, a puppet dancing to the tune of the ancients.”

“What are you even talking about?!”

“You don’t know what the Dovahkiin’s true purpose is,” he said, his voice all wicked glee.

“Don’t listen to him!” Nelvulonah hissed.

“You know of the power of the Dovah,” Miraak said, “the creation of the Dragonborn was the work of the Dovah as a way to create and manipulate delicate magics. The Dovah were not built for fragile weaving of magic. Mortal frames could more easily craft such intricate works, magical works, particular spells and incantations, alchemical designs, enchantments woven into the very fabric of Atherius. Dovahkiin could create with the power of the dragons and the subtlety of the mortals. They were tools, nothing more.  _ We _ are  **_tools_ ** , slaves to our dragon overlords!”

I screamed, a wordless cry of denial and horror and hurled flame at him. He sidestepped neatly, my attack crashing and fizzling out against the stone wall behind him.

“LIAR!” Nelvulonah shrieked, baring her fangs.

“I wish I was,” Miraak said with a quiet bitterness.

I dropped my staff, sinking to my knees.  _ It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be. _

But I remembered Durnehviir’s shame, the hesitancy in speaking of the past subjugation of mortals. A chill ran through me; Paarthurnaax had  _ known _ .

“Swear it,” I said, the words almost a whisper, “Swear that what you say is the truth."

"I swear on the name that is no longer mine to keep, and the blood of my forebears,” Miraak said, and as I looked up, I could see blood trickling from one pale, ungloved hand, falling to the cold stone, “that I speak the truth when I say that the purpose of the Dragonborn as we were created is to serve the Dovah as tools. I was the First and now  _ you _ are the Last."

His words seemed to reverberate with my dragon soul, an undeniable truth sworn on blood. An impossible, horrible  _ truth _ . Bile rose in my throat.

I closed my eyes and tried to breathe, to push away the crushing pain that threatened to overwhelm me.  

“He’s lying, thuri!” Nelvulonah shouted, “He just wants to distract you!”

Miraak laughed, dark and cold and terrible. I shivered.

“And yet I swore on blood and did not die,” Miraak said, “ _ Someone _ obviously doesn’t know any of the history of her forebears.”

“Mul Spaan!” Nelvulonah roared, her Shout thrumming with vibrant energy as she brought a shield to life around us. “And you do?!” Nelvulonah spat. “You’re lying! You’re a stain upon the name of Dovahkiin!”

“Only in that I rebelled against my masters! I refused to let them control me!”

Distantly, I could hear them arguing, insults hurled like spears. It meant little to me. I had never been free, my past clung to me still, and the bindings of the Dovah had lingered in my blood even as I awoke as Dovahkiin upon Alduin’s return.

It had been a lie. A comfortable lie, but a lie nonetheless. I wanted to scream, to shriek my pain, my sorrow and rage to the dark walls of the tomb, but my voice lay silent and frozen in my throat.

I couldn’t even move, couldn’t bring myself to stand to face the man who had threatened my life, the First of my kind. Nelvulonah screamed, her thu’um shattering against Miraak’s far more powerful one. Her voice came again, louder and more anguished.

“THURI!”

Hands seized me and pulled me upright, clenching around my throat. I struggled, forcibly pulled back from my maelstrom of emotions as the First tightened his grip, nails digging into my skin. Rust-colored eyes glinted, and I could feel blood trickling down my neck.

“Such a weak Dovahkiin you are, if you are so easily broken by painful truths,” Miraak said. “You will die here, Aldariel of the Storm, lost to history and buried in a forgotten tomb.”

Darkness danced at the edge of my vision as he squeezed.

“…Kren…Sindugahvon…Golz…” I rasped, forcing much of my remaining power into the Words. Stone cracked, the very earth shuddering and roiling around us. Something slammed into my side, dragging me away from Miraak’s loosened grasp.

And the tomb came crashing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long. It was originally a lot longer. As always, reviews are appreciated and welcomed. They help to feed the muse.


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